


After the Light Fades

by Lifedrake



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Cannibalism, Confusion, Crazy Dean, Dark, Dark Castiel, Dark Dean Winchester, Dark Sam Winchester, Depressed Dean, Disturbing Themes, Eye Gouging, Gen, Ghosts, Hallucinations, Hearing Voices, Horror, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Mind Control, Mind Games, Mindfuck, Mystery, Nightmare Fuel, Nightmares, No happy endings, Paranoia, Paranoid Dean, Possession, Psychological Horror, Self-Harm, Sleepwalking, Such lovely tags, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Survival Horror, ooc as heck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-03-31 21:19:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 28
Words: 24,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3993247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lifedrake/pseuds/Lifedrake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam part ways after the whole Ezekiel incident. Dean's first problem is finding somewhere to stay so he's surprised to find a perfectly good abandoned house with no obvious ghosts but as the old saying goes: If it's too good to be true then it's probably too good to be true. Quickly, Dean finds himself fighting for his life, body and sanity but this may be a fight that he can't win.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Grim Phone Call

**Author's Note:**

> God. I have really dark plot bunnies sometimes. I think horror is pretty much my best when it comes to writing fanfic or anything really.*shrugs*.

Sam was in the middle of being healed by Cas when he got the call.

He hadn't expected Dean to call so soon after parting ways so, as soon as he saw the name on screen, he felt a chill go up his spine and a sense of foreboding.

He barely even hesitated before answering. The voice on the other end was so terrified and stuttered that, for a second, he didn't recognize it as Dean.

"W-who I-is th-thi-s?" The voice feebly asked from the other end.

"You called, shouldn't you know?" Sam asked, his foreboding growing to a fear.

"J-just leave me alone. P-please! What d-did I e-ever do to you?" There was a loud sob, "PLEASE!"

"...Dean..?"

"Shutup! Just stop it! LET ME OUT OF HERE!" Dean burst into hiccupping sobs, "Why me? Why me? Why me?"

"Dean! Where are you? What's going on?"

"STOP IT! I know you're not Sam! I know! When is that damn trick gonna get old for you, huh? Who are you?!"

"...Dean. Calm down. Just tell me what's going on"

There was hysterical laughter on the other end between sobs. Sam Shuffled uncomfortably and glanced up at Cas who was listening silently to the ordeal. It was impossible to know what he was thinking. He had a blank look on his face as he listened but it seemed to Sam almost like a look of shock.

"I'll find you. Don't worry, we're coming to help soon"

There was a sudden scream on the other end and the sound of the phone clattering to the ground.

"Dean!? Dean! Hold on! We're coming!"

The noises from the phone stopped and cut to an empty silence. Dean had hung up. The screaming still seemed to echo in his ears, lodged in his brain.

No matter how many times Sam tried to call back, nobody answered again.

Both him and Cas feared the worst.

 

 

 


	2. Three Days Earlier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean stops at an abandoned house unknowing the fate that awaits him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter name might change. I'm not sure yet how many days Dean is going to be here for.

Dean stared at the interior of the house. It seemed too good to be true and that unnerved him. It looked awfully like a cheesy haunted house with the massive rusty chandelier and grand, although unsafe looking, staircase. The carpets were faded and had holes in them but looked like they had once been bright and colourful. He couldn't help but believe that it _had_ been a funfair haunted house because the place, amazingly, had modern lights and plenty of working electrical equipment.

Since he had split with Sam, Dean had to find someone other than the bunker to stay. He had been driving casually through the woods when he had spotted the house nestled in a small clearing. He had hesitated at first but it was clearly abandoned and the Impala was nearly out of fuel so he wasn't sure if it would make it to a motel or even the nearest gas station.

The house was pretty old and crumbling, full of cobwebs, lights that didn't work or flickered and insects but it was surprisingly ghost free apparently to his EMF and had rather comfortable beds as well as some old food only just within its sell by date.

Dean felt strangely scared of it despite the promises of the EMF and even the fact that he was a hunter didn't relieve his uneasiness. His fear didn't feel like a natural fear. It felt like something else was directly messing his head and affecting his emotions.

_It's just because Sam isn't here. I'll put down salt lines just in case anyway. What's the worst that could happen? Death? I don't fear death... I... I almost wish it would come... I wish... No... I shouldn't think like that. Just because Sam wants to give up and leave doesn't mean I will too._

He shook his head and started setting up salt lines. It was still daytime so he had time to explore before he went to sleep. He also put down a few demon traps and kept his gun close to hand. The house wasn't the worst he had ever been in. There was a library with old books that were in surprisingly good condition and a working TV.

He watched the TV until he decided to go to sleep. The beds were actually more comfortable than the ones in the bunker. Dean couldn't get rid of the paranoid feeling that this was not what it seemed but he fell asleep quite quickly anyway.

His dreams were plagued by the memory of him and Sam parting ways but twisted. In his dreams, Sam seemed darker, glaring at him and calling him a wimp who couldn't fend for himself. Even Cas watched with a look of disapproval instead of the forgiveness he had shown Dean when Dean had first explained what he had done.

"Sam, I'm sorry" Dean begged, feeling the guilt just as strongly as when he had first realized that he had made a mistake.

"Sorry doesn't bring Kevin back does it?" Sam growled, "I was ready to die. Why can't you accept it? Why do you have to drag everyone down with you?"

"Why can't you see? Think how I must feel! You and Kevin are the little family I have left"

"Well now you've lost both"

"...Sam..."

"Traitor. Why have I saved you so many times? I should have just let you die ages ago"

"You don't mean that..."

"I do! You mess up everything! Why don't you just commit suicide? It would be better for everyone!"

Dean fought back tears, "Please, Sam..."

"Dean" Cas spoke up softly, "He's right. You do cause a lot of messes. You do more harm than good. It would be best for everyone..."

"Cas..." He started sobbing, "Please"

"Just go. It's your choice whether you kill yourself or not but don't bring your messes over here to us"

Dean turned and ran back to the Impala, feeling their harsh gazes upon his back. He was crying like a little kid and his heart felt like it had shattered into a million pieces.

The dream skipped forward to him standing in a motel room holding a rope and considering. After a while, he hung it up and created a noose before stepping on a chair and sticking his head through. His took a deep breath and kicked the chair out from under him.

He fell. The noose tightened.

Suddenly, the dream crumbled and his eyes opened to find himself not in the bed he had fallen asleep in. Instead he was, just like in the dream, standing on a chair with his head through the noose. He was wide awake in the kitchen with wet tears still fresh on his cheeks from the dream. The noose was tied to the broken light above.

Dean let out a cry of alarm and stumbled back, falling off the chair with a clatter and the noose caught and tightened around his neck cutting off his breath.

This was real. This was terrifyingly real. He could feel the blood pounding in his head and with it was a pressure in his brain. Every swallow or gasp for breath was a struggle and hurt his throat.

He was glad to feel his silver knife clutched in his hands tightly although he hadn't fell asleep holding it which was strange but it wasn't the time for thinking. He began furiously drawing the blade back and forth across the rope above him. Every cut he did was weaker than the last as his vision began to fade and his strength failing.

After what seemed like years, finally the rope above him snapped and his fell to the floor, gasping for breath and trembling. His vision faded in and out of darkness and he lay there, terror seeping into every part of him. His heart thudded loudly in his ears. He could still feel the rope around his neck even though it was off.

_How... How did I get here..? Did I sleepwalk..? No. This house is bad. I knew that when I walked in. I should have paid attention to it. I gotta leave. Now._

Dean stumbled to his feet. The ground seemed to move beneath him and he swayed dizzily. He took a few shaky steps forward before falling over again.

His eyes closed but he still struggled to stay awake. He heard footsteps coming towards him. It sounded like two people.

"A hunter?" One sniggered. This one had more of a hiss like a snake and every word they said made him feel sleepy and his thoughts became jumbled. He unconsciously longed to have this one speak more and strained his ears to listen, "I always love a challenge"

"I always prefer when they go down easy. The wimpier are more interesting to watch" The other spoke with a small sigh. They had a deep, gruff voice that somehow frightened Dean like a complete opposite of the first.

"Yeah, but they always die quicker. I love seeing humans trying to act all tough and then being slowly turned into a sobbing, shivering, snivelling coward"

"I don't think this one'll last long anyway. It's only been one night and he already fell for the oldest trick in the book"

"Oldest trick in the book? I'll have you know that that's my own original game"

"I was using that trick long before you"

"Badly. Every time you did it, you made them walk right out the door. I'm the one good at mind control here"

"He woke up before you managed to make him strangle himself"

"That's better than you ever did"

"Whatever. I think he's still conscious"

"I don't think so" Dean was suddenly kicked in the stomach but he didn't have the energy to fight back, "See? Out like a light"

"Let's just go"

"Wimp"

"Idiot"

The pair turned and walked away leaving Dean on the floor.

Dean lay there for a few seconds before he blacked out.


	3. When there's something strange...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds himself trapped in the house and things start getting unusual.

Dean woke up back in the bed he had fell asleep in. Nothing seemed different or strange.

He leapt out of the bed and checked himself in the mirror for any signs of the strange occurrences of the previous night. There was nothing. The marks of the rope around his neck were gone like they had never existed, his eyes showed no sign or crying although they were bloodshot and looked like he hadn't slept well. There wasn't even a mark where he had been kicked in the stomach.

_Was it just a dream? No. That's impossible. That was real. That had to be real. What am I up against? A witch? That seems like the most likely._

He considered leaving the house but the Impala just didn't have enough fuel and he wasn't walking. Besides, it could have just been a realistic dream or it might have nothing to do with the house itself anyway.

He wasn't going to call Sam so early after separating but Cas might be able to pop by and help out. He wasn't sure what he was up against yet so a little help might be useful.

Dean checked the door just to see if he even could leave. Nope. It was locked and the windows were boarded up well so it wouldn't be easy to get out unless he prised off the boards with his bare hands.

He tried pulling off the boards just so he could have an escape route if the situation went south but they just wouldn't budge. There was no way out.

Should he really call Cas? Dean hesitated. The last time he had done that he had attracted a bunch of very upset angels.

Well he couldn't call Sam and he was trapped in the house. He would wait a while first just to see if he could deal with this himself.

Dean sighed and sat down on a chair, considering his options.

_Why are you trying so hard to stay alive? What are you fighting for?_

He stiffened.

"Who's there?"

There was a small laugh.

"Who is there?!" Dean pulled out his gun and his gaze swept across the room.

There was a glimmer of movement in the corner. He shot at it.

_Ow!_

Dean yelped in pain and looked down at his arm. Blood was seeping from a bullet hole in his shoulder.

"What..?"

_Resistance is useless just like you. Just accept it._

"Shut up!" Dean shot again at another glimpse of movement. He cried out in pain and saw another bullet hole in his stomach.

_Do you get it now?_

"...You..."

_Go on. Shoot again if you want proof._

"How..?"

There was an ominous laugh and the figure stepped out of the dark. Dean froze.

"Shapeshifter"

_No. Are you really that stupid?_

The man before him was a mirror image of himself except the eyes glowed red with fire and his mouth was full of sharp fangs. The other Dean smirked.

_I see you don't believe me. Just shoot again. I'm you._

"What are you?"

_You_

"What are you really?"

_Shoot._

Dean noticed that the other Dean also had bullet holes in his shoulder and stomach.

"Why are you keeping me here? What do you want?"

_A little fun._ _It gets boring here._

Dean glanced down at his knife. It was worth a shot.

_I also just want you to accept yourself. I know you feel guilty and you want to die so why ignore it?_

Dean subtly began edging towards the other Dean.

"What makes you so sure?"

_Because I'm you, Dean. I know everything about you. I know how you feel._

"What am I thinking right now then?"

_You doubt me. You're trying to figure out what I am and what I want._

Dean smiled grimly. Other Dean was wrong so he was clearly lying. He was something else.

"Are you certain?"

Other Dean nodded. Dean leapt forwards and plunged the knife into his chest.

"Wrong"

Other Dean looked down at the blood spilling from his chest and cursed. Dean was glad to see that the injury hadn't been mirrored this time and he was still alive.

_Maybe you're smarter than I anticipated._

Dean took the knife out of his chest and stepped back. The bullet holes on his body faded along with the pain. Illusions. They had never existed.

Other Dean scowled and ran away before Dean could stop him. The silver knife hadn't done a thing.

On the bright side, he now knew a little about what he was up against.

 

 


	4. Angel of the Lord... Of Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean meets Cas... Except he doesn't.

Dean wished he knew _exactly_ what he was up against.

He knew a little about it but not enough to kill it.

The "Other Dean" hadn't been a shapeshifter otherwise it would've reacted a _lot_ worse to the silver knife but what options did that leave? Could witches clone people? Maybe it was a tulpa or djinn.

He didn't quite have enough evidence yet to figure it out but he knew that from now on he had to tread with caution. It still infuriated him that he didn't know how to kill or even harm this thing. Hell, he hadn't even been able to shoot it without harming himself.

Dean couldn't help wishing that Sam was there with all his nerdy theories to help him with this but he wasn't giving up yet. He wasn't that weak. He wouldn't give in after just one day.

"Dean?"

Dean spun around quickly, his gun right in the face of the speaker in under a second.

"Cas?"

Cas stood there in his usual attire, watching Dean with a cocked head.

"I... I felt that Sam was a little harsh on you so I just dropped by to check if you were alright"

"I'm fine" Dean eyed Cas cautiously. The creature had already proved that it had some sort of shapeshifting ability and now Cas conveniently "dropped by". It just didn't seem quite right.

"Are you sure? I'm not an expert on these things but you look a little pale there"

"Shouldn't you be looking after Sam?"

"He's currently resting" Cas stepped closer, "Are you sure you're alright? You're looking at me like I'm a threat"

"Don't act like you don't know"

Cas frowned, "I only just got here, Dean. You can't really be expecting me to understand what's been happening here"

Dean relaxed slightly but kept his gun pointed at Cas' head. If it was the creature then it hadn't slipped up yet but that didn't mean that he definitely was Cas. 

"First prove to me that you're Cas"

"What?"

"Prove to me that you're Cas"

"I don't understand what you expect from me. You think I'm a shapeshifter?" Cas took another step forward.

"Yes" Dean lied taking an unconscious step backwards. His back hit a wall.

"Hand me the silver knife and I'll prove it to you"

Dean looked down at his knife. So far, it had been the only weapon that did anything at all to the creature. Could he really trust "Cas" with it?

"No"

"Then how to I prove this to you?" Cas stepped forward again. They were now uncomfortably close.

"Personal space"

"Dean? What do you expect from me?"

"Personal space"

"No, I mean how do I prove to you that I'm me?"

"Please?"

Cas paused. Dean gazed into his ocean blue eyes. Did they seem just a little _too_ bright? Did his hair just seem a bit _too_ messy?

"Dean? What's wrong?"

"You're not Cas" He tested. If this was the creature then it might show its true form if it thought he already knew.

"Dean, you're being paranoid. Just tell me what's going on"

"You're. Not. Cas."

Cas stood there for a second, frowning at him. Suddenly, his lips parted in a malicious grin showing row after row of sharp fangs. His blue eyes now seemed to burn with a bright blood red flame. The change was enormous. It no longer felt like Cas but instead a dark, evil presence before him.

"How paranoid of you"

Not Cas' hand shot out and latched onto Dean's wrist, pinning him against the wall.

"What are you?"

"I'm an angel of the lord" Not Cas mockingly imitated Cas.

Dean tried to use his other hand to grab the silver knife but Not Cas used his other hand to pluck the knife from his belt and sent it skidding across the floor before gently caressing Dean's face.

"How perfect. You really underestimate how fine a specimen you really are"

Dean was about to protest when Not Cas lunged forward and sank his teeth into his shoulder. Dean yelled out in alarm and pain. Blood spurted into the air and bone crunched beneath Not Cas' powerful jaws.

Not Cas unlatched his jaws from Dean's shoulder for a second to smile at Dean. His mouth was covered in blood and splinters of broken bone like a little kid who had eaten their spaghetti a little too messily and got it all over their face.

"What's wrong? Did you need that shoulder? Oops" Not Cas shoved Dean to the floor and sat on top of his stomach, pinning him down, "What about your kneecap? Need that?"

"Surprisingly, yes" Dean snarled, kicking at Not Cas but Not Cas didn't budge.

"Hm..." Not Cas gently poked at Dean's right eye, "Well you have two shoulders so you can spare one just like those pretty little eyes of yours. Mind if I borrow one?"

"Not for rent"

"Being sassy are we?"

Dean thrust out a hand and griped Not Cas' face before thrusting the other hand into his blazing eye. The fire licked at his hand and he pulled it back quickly, burnt.

"An eye for an eye, eh? That rule doesn't apply here" Not Cas griped at the top and bottom of Dean's right eye, slowly tightening.

The pain was horrific. His vision through his right eye blurred and began turning red at the edges. Dean swore loudly and nastily at Not Cas.

"Language" Not Cas scolded and his grip tightened.

Dean's right eye suddenly popped out and hung by his cheek by his optical cord.

"Oops. Looks like I broke it" Not Cas picked up the eye and violently began to shove it back in Dean's hollow eye socket.

The noises made him feel sick. The eye squelched as it was forced back inside. Even when it was back inside, he could still barely see out of it.

"Good as new. No harm done"

"Other than the fact that I'm practically blind out of one eye and my shoulder is gone, yes" Dean muttered.

"I could kill you" Not Cas mused, "But that would be too boring. I'll give you time to heal then I'll be back for that eye you owe me"

Dean felt his eyes slowly shutting, unable to stay awake.

"'Til we meet again, Dean Winchester" Not Cas saluted and walked away.

Dean lay there for a moment and then was violently sick on the floor right next to his head before blacking out.

 


	5. Follow your dreams is a really bad saying sometimes...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has another nightmare.

In his unconscious state, Dean had another dream.

This time he was on a plane with his eyes screwed shut and humming Metallica. Sam was sitting next to him and sniggering.

"This is not funny" Dean snarled between hummed notes.

"It's not that scary, Dean"

"Says the guy who's afraid of clowns"

Sam hesitated, "It's a pretty common phobia. Clowns _are_ pretty scary. Planes on the other hand..."

"Shut up"

Sam laughed and leaned back in his chair, "The plane won't crash, Dean, don't worry"

Dean turned his head to face away from Sam.

"Sulking are we?" Sam joked. Dean just grunted in reply.

There was a while of silence which seemed like an age to Dean who was terrified that the plane would crash at any moment.

_Stop being a wimp, Dean._

"Just shut up"

Sam frowned and glanced at Dean, "I didn't say anything"

"You did. You called me a wimp"

"I didn't"

"You did"

_That's because you are._

"I'm not!" Dean's eyes flashed open and he glared at Sam.

"Dean? Are you feeling alright?"

_It's just that you look a little wimpier than usual._

"Fine. I think I'm hearing things" Dean watched Sam. He could now see that his mouth hadn't moved when the voice had mocked him.

"Hearing things?" Sam suddenly looked worried, "What did you hear?"

The voice, now that he thought about it, didn't even sound like Sam.

_He doesn't really care. He's just asking in case you're possessed to save his own skin._

"Um... A voice" Dean answered, trying to ignore the voice.

"What's it saying?"

_Just look closely. Sam doesn't care about you. In his eyes, you're just the coward who drags down other people with him because he can't stand to be alone._

"Dean? Hello? Earth to Dean? What's it saying?"

"Not much..."

_Stop following Sam like a little puppy. Prove to him that you're something more._

"It's calling me a wimp"

"This sounds bad. Dean, what else is it saying?"

_Sam doesn't care. I bet he wishes he never had a brother. He wishes that he could have at least had a better brother than you. One that isn't a failure._

"I'm not a failure!"

"Dean?"

Dean wasn't listening to Sam anymore. The voice was twisting his emotions in ways that it wouldn't without some kind of unusual power. An unnatural hatred for his brother was beginning to plague him the more the voice spoke.

_You are in his eyes. All he wants is you to just **die.**_

"...No..." Dean gritted his teeth. Sam's voice sounded far away calling his name.

**_Just die, die, die,_ die, die, Die, Die, DIE, DIE, DIE! DIE! DIE!**

"STOP IT!" Dean screamed, leaping out of his seat. Suddenly everything stopped and he was back in the plane. Everyone was watching him worriedly and Sam was shaking him.

"Dean? Dean? Are you back with us?"

He paused, "...Yes..." then he settled back down into his chair.

Sam watched him unconvinced, "You're sure? What even was that?"

"I don't know" Dean turned to face away from him. He could still feel hatred for Sam boiling within him and it felt like he could snap at any moment.

_Kill him._

Dean flinched as he heard the voice again.

_Kill him._

The worst part was that he wanted to. He really did.

_Kill._

He looked over at Sam watching him steadily.

_Kill._

He could see the terror in his brothers eyes.

_Kill._

He could almost smell his fear.

**_Kill_ **

He could almost hear the quick beating of his heart.

_**Kill** _

He could see himself reflected in those large, frightened eyes.

_**Kill** _

He had a crazy look in his eyes and his lips were slowly splitting in a massive, eerie grin.

**Kill**

"Dean..?"

**Kill**

"What are you..?"

**Kill**

"N-no! Please!"

**KILL**

"DEAN! PLEASE!"

**KILL**

"SNAP OUT OF IT DEAN! PLEASE!"

**KILL**

"DEAN STOP! I- ......... stop... pl...ea...se..."

_...Kill..._

The voice faded. Dean found himself on top of his brother's torn open corpse. There was something sticky around his mouth and his body and clothes were soaked crimson.

Everyone was staring.

Sam was barely recognizable.

He had been eaten alive.

...By Dean.

Dean felt sick.

"God... Sam... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

But what he did was unforgivable. He had murdered in cold blood.

Dean was trembling now.

"Sam..."

He began to sob.

No reverses. He couldn't turn back time.

No second chances.

 

Then Dean woke up bathed in his own cold sweat.

 

 

His mouth had the coppery taste of blood.

 

 


	6. Tapeworms don't make good snacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets hungry and decides to raid the fridge. 
> 
>  
> 
> ...Not exactly the best idea in a haunted house...

Dean's eyesight and shoulder had magically healed while he was sleeping like Not Cas had never been there.

Whatever this thing was, it wanted him alive but broken.

His current biggest problem though was that he was starving. It felt like his stomach was eating itself alive and his mouth was about as dry as a desert

Dean sighed and hunted down the fridge. He remembered from his first night that there was edible food in there.

_Actually, how long have I been here for?_

With all the passing out he wasn't sure anymore. It could just be one day or it could be weeks.

Heck, for all he knew, it could have been a year by now.

He pushed all thought about that from his mind and swung open the fridge.

He had kind of been expecting something bad considering the whole haunted house situation. Maybe a decaying corpse or insects or at least some mould but the food looked fine apart from a lone sandwich which had clearly gone way out of date.

Dean picked out a box of cereal and peered inside. The monster clearly had some humour because the cereal was a Halloween edition so all the shapes were made to look like different insects.

He made sure to check that they really were just shapes first. He didn't trust anything in this place but he was just too hungry to leave the food alone just because of a little paranoia.

After a deep breath, he took a handful and ate them. He wasn't going to put them into a bowl first because he was just too hungry to wait for that.

As soon as he bit down on them, he realized that he had made a horrible mistake.

The insides were filled with a disgusting goo that reminded him of... of...

Dean spat out the cereal, gagging on the taste. Instead of cereal shapes, before him was a squirming pile of insects oozing green and red blood.

"That's just wrong" He gasped, watching the insects.

The biggest problem was that he didn't manage to spit out all the insects. He could feel something slimy wriggling around in his mouth and, every time he tried to spit it out, it wormed deeper and deeper down his throat.

He could tell that it was a worm. He couldn't help imagine the slimy, wiggling worm slipping down his throat as he helplessly felt the worm struggling along his tongue.

It felt a lot longer than normal worms which just made him more disgusted.

Finally, the worm dropped down into his stomach. Dean gagged again but there wasn't enough liquid inside him to throw the creature back up.

He cupped his hands under the tap and turned it on, catching the water in his hands and then drinking it.

Instead of water, a steady stream of blood came out but Dean was so desperate that he didn't even care.

He then proceeded to throw up the worm on the floor in the puddle of blood and stomach acid.

It wasn't a normal worm but instead it was incredibly long, thin and almost looked scaly.

A tapeworm. He had nearly eaten a tapeworm.

Dean would've thrown up again if he could.

He could almost hear Not Cas laughing at him.

He grabbed a beer from the fridge and was glad to find that it was a normal beer without any blood, insects or anything although he did find an eyeball at the bottom.

Looking at it strangely made his right eye begin to hurt again and his vision blurred, becoming red at the edges.

Dean shook his head and left the kitchen, turning his back to the still wriggling pile of bugs.


	7. The chapter where not much happens unless you're Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing really happens but Dean makes it something.  
> There's also a phone call.

Dean spent the rest of the day paranoid.

The incident with the tapeworm had really shook him up and he was beginning to keep away from anything that could be considered dangerous in classical horror sort of terms.

Cupboards, attics, mirrors, ropes, computers, knives and guns (other than his own of course), the TV, heavy paintings, mysteriously ringing telephones, satanic symbols, bowls of fruit, mannequins, wires and other things. He would have thrown away his own gun and knife but he needed those.

The house was bigger than he expected as he wandered around, staying away from most of the rooms. He felt uneasy about being in the hallways but he needed to find some sort of safe room or exit. Once, he even started worrying that the house was perhaps a little _too_ big and that he might be walking in circles or have gotten lost in the endless maze of corridors.

He was aware that he was getting paranoid but what was he supposed to do? He didn't know the extent of this monster's powers and the cereal incident proved to him that it was dangerous.

He was hungry again but the food might be inedible. He was thirsty but he didn't trust the drinks. He was tired but he didn't trust himself.

It wasn't fear, it was common sense.

Dean once came across a spider. He was out of that room before you could blink.

He didn't want to stop walking in case something got him but his legs ached like hell.

How long had it been?

He sighed. As much as he hated to ask Sam for help so soon after splitting, he had no other choice. He was beginning to lose his mind.

He kept seeing things that weren't there or hearing voices and his vision through his right eye was getting strange.

Dean finally mustered up his courage and called Sam.

The phone waited for Sam to pick up.

As much as he hated it, Dean stopped walking and sat down to wait.

"Hello?"

"H-hello?" Dean asked and winced at his trembling voice. He hadn't even realized how cold he was but now that he thought about it, he was freezing. Goosebumps prickled his skin and his entire body shook. He felt embarrassed but Sam had already picked up the phone so he couldn't just hang up now.

"Who is this..?"

"Is th-this S-Sam?"

"Yesss..?"

"I-it's De-Dean"

"Who is this really?"

"I'm t-telling the truth!"

"Dean wouldn't sound so scared"

"I'm not scared I'm just c-c-cold"

"Dean's a wimp but he's not that much of a wimp"

Dean flinched, "You're not Sam"

"What?"

"S-Sam wouldn't say something l-like that"

"Well I am. Right now."

"You- you're that... That... Thing!"

"Thing?" Sam stifled a snort of laughter.

"Y-yes! You know what I'm talking about! Y-you're that monster!"

"Shapeshifter troubles over there, eh?"

"No! I-it... It's not..."

"Ok, Dean. One word of advice..."

"W-what is it?"

"Don't turn around"

Not Sam hung up.

Dean stood stiffly for a second.

Was there something there?

Should he turn around..?

Dean turned slowly and...

...

...

...

Nothing there.

It was messing with him.

 

 

 

 


	8. Walls make the best therapists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean yells at the walls.  
> It's like therapy but of a more insane kind.
> 
>  
> 
> ...And free too which is basically the biggest upside.

Dean was fully aware of how paranoid he was acting and he felt embarrassed about it but what other choice did he have? Sit there and risk something else bad showing up?

He was incredibly glad that Sam wasn't there to watch him disapprovingly as he scurried from room to room. He wasn't a coward! He wasn't selfish! Why couldn't Sam see that what he did was for Sam. All of it.

"Sam was dying!" Dean snapped, unable to keep his annoyance silent, "What should I've done?!"

The silence itself seemed to be judgemental of him.

"He..." Dean choked on his own words, feeling sorrow overcome him, "He's the little family I have left. The little _true_ family..."

No-one answered but still Dean yelled at the inanimate walls.

"I need him! Kevin... Kevin needed him..." Tears began to form in the edges of his vision and he was aware that his right eye was weeping blood, "The entire world needs him"

Dean furiously wiped away the tears, determined to keep anyone or anything from seeing it.

"Maybe I did do it for myself a little but you can't pretend that I was the only selfish one there! Sam didn't think of me! Of Kevin! Of Cas! How we would feel..."

He could no longer stop himself.

"I've done so much for him... I just... I just want him to appreciate what I've done for him. I've sacrificed myself for him so many times but he doesn't even notice..."

"He... He's my brother and I love him as a brother but why can't he do the same to me..."

Dean's right eye vision turned bright scarlet.

"Cas isn't even human and he still understands what I did... He didn't even feel human emotions until recently..."

His left eye began to go red at the edges as well.

"But... I'm... I'm a... a... failure..."

_I said it. I finally said it. The truth no one else would admit._

"All I ever do is screw things up. Even Sam admitted that although he didn't say those exact words"

A long deep breath.

"Whatever I do is wrong. There is no right choice... I... I should just _die_..."

He flinched at his own words. It barely even felt like his own words anymore like something else was pulling the strings but maybe that was just his paranoia.

"I'm no better than the monsters I kill"

_Stop it! Stop it!_

"I'm a monster myself"

_Shut up! That's not true!_

"Sometimes"

As soon as those final words passed his lips, he collapsed on the ground. It felt like some dark presence that he had been unaware of had just released him.

The red faded from his vision and Dean reflected on how much more of this he could take until he really did snap and started yelling at walls without a malevolent being controlling him.

 

 

Maybe he already had.

 

 


	9. Dean's done with your s***

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things continue to not happen and it's driving Dean round the bend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That awkward moment when I can write about insanity and cannibalism and eye gouging but I can't bring myself to type a swear word :/
> 
> Oh and thanks for reading, I hope you've enjoyed so far :D

Dean was getting annoyed.

He had been wandering around for at _least_ two and a half hours and nothing else had happened.

It was making him feel like a idiot, jumping at every sound and avoiding the smallest of objects.

He just needed to prove to himself that things could be dangerous. He needed to know that he wasn't just being a wimp.

Dean found a spider and picked it up. Nothing happened.

He waited.

Nope. Nothing.

Dean snarled in annoyance and flung the spider at the wall before storming from the room.

Something more dangerous. He needed something more dangerous.

He went to the kitchen and found a knife.

Still nothing happened.

He was starving and since nothing was happening he decided to grab something from the fridge. Considering last time, something  _had_ to happen.

But nope. He ate a different cereal this time (the only thing in that fridge seemed to be cereal and the mouldy sandwich strangely) and nothing happened other than he finally got to eat.

"Who even keeps cereal in the fridge anyway?" Dean scoffed, aware that he was talking to himself again. Who exactly was he supposed to talk to? "What kind of horrific monster just keeps cereal in the fridge? Not to mention that that's the only thing here"

The taps were also now pouring water instead of blood and Dean was starting to believe that somehow he had imagined or dreamed up all the incidents. After all, there was never any evidence afterwards that they had been real.

"There has to be something..." Dean grumbled, "I didn't imagine all that"

He cleared his throat and yelled, "Whatever you are, this is not amusing!" then he stormed off.

Dean took the opportunity to try and call Sam again. It went straight to voice mail.

"Sam? If this _is_ Sam... Anyway... I really need your help can you call back soon?"

At least, that's what it was supposed to sound like. Instead, because of cold and f- No. Not fear. Just cold. - it came out as a stuttered mess which ended with him yelling at the phone about how f***ing freezing it was and that he wasn't scared and about how freaking useless Sam and Cas were being at that point.

"Maybe I _am_ losing my mind" Dean groaned as soon as he finished, massaging his temples. He now had an awful headache to top everything off and his right vision was going blood red again as well as it felt like his eye was burning.

Nope. It's not that easy to make _him_ go insane. Whatever this thing was, it must be messing with his mind.

He needed Sam and Cas soon and he was just on the edge of praying to Cas for help but it was risky. There would be a way to kill this thing, he just needed to figure out what it was...

Since things had cooled off a bit, he decided to have a rest. If anything was going to happen it would be while he slept.

 


	10. Let the games begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds out what's going on and comes to the conclusion that if he makes it out alive then he might never be the same again...

Dean knew he was dreaming this time.

He was stood in a long corridor and at the other end was Other Dean. It was so dark that he could only see Other Dean's silhouette.

Other Dean smirked, "Long time, no see"

"Not long enough if you ask me"

"Still hate me, eh?"

"What do you even want? Why are you doing this?"

"You wandered into my territory and you need to pay the price"

"Just open the damn door and let me out. You've already made your point"

"Bad pets need punishment"

"I'm not your pet"

"But you _are_ Sam's little puppy. Usually the owner is the one punished though..."

"You leave Sam outta this!" Dean snapped.

"Mmm" Other Dean took a step forward, out of the darkness.

Dean's eyes widened. Other Dean laughed.

"Of course, you haven't seen yourself in the mirror since you got here. I'm just a perfect reflection of you"

Other Dean was messed up. His hair was sticking all over the place and dark rings encircled his bloodshot eyes. Dried blood was splattered across his face coming from his right eye. His right eye was coated in a film of red like a crossroad demon and was still dripping fresh blood.

He looked insane.

"You're lying"

"If I were then why wouldn't I show you something worse?"

Dean's vision began to turn scarlet.

"Liar"

"You know it's true"

Dean took a deep breath, trying to calm himself and changed the subject.

"Who are you really?"

"I'm you"

"No, really? What are you really? What's your name?"

Other Dean sighed, "My name is Phobos"

"Phobos? I've never heard of you before. Are you a tulpa?"

"No. I wouldn't expect you to know. I'm not what you would call... A... Uh... Well known character..."

Dean waited for it to continue.

"I wasn't in any of the stories people told but I _was_ worshiped once..."

"Worshiped? You're a god?!"

A dark smile split Phobos' face. It was unnatural huge with massive sharp fangs like a leviathan. He nodded smugly.

"Worshiped before battles for help in war. Of course, I wasn't worshiped as much as my father, Ares"

"So, you're the god of what? Incredibly unfunny jokes? Insects? Depression?"

"Are you really that naïve? What do you think I'm the god of?"

"Incredibly unfunny jokes"

Phobos sighed, "I'll give you a hint. I know you fear flying and Sam fears clowns"

"Anyone can find that out"

"You also fear what Sam and Cas think of you. Like a little poor puppy, you don't want to be alone. Not truly. Not having absolutely anyone left to talk to. You also fear yourself and failing to protect what little is left of your family. You care for Sam. You also fear becoming a demon and losing control of your own conscience. The funny part is, with you selfishly saving Sammy, you're already halfway there"

"Shut up"

"I know your fears, Dean. I can control them. I could make you fear anything I wanted. I can make you fear something embarrassing like mice or something difficult like the monsters you hunt themselves. Do you want to know why I would do that?"

"So you're the god of fear?"

"I am."

"So why would you do this?"

Phobos smirked again and stepped forwards until they were uncomfortably close.

"To break you. When you snap, you'll worship me and do anything I wanted. When I'm done with you, you'd kill your own brother for me"

Dean couldn't help remembering the conversation he'd overheard during his first sleepwalking incident.

"There were others" He glared at Phobos, "What happened to them?"

"They broke. Painfully cheap toys eh?"

"Toys? People aren't your toys"

"The point is that they broke too easily to worship us. They shattered and committed suicide"

"You tried to make me commit suicide"

"If you survive then you'll become our slave. Simple as that. These are just games"

"I'm a hunter. I can kill you and your brother"

"We'll see. In the meantime, let the games begin"

Dean woke up with a cry, shaking.

Blood dripped from his eye.

"Son of a bitch"

 


	11. Brotherly hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean meets Sam and Cas

The first thing Dean did was check his equipment for anything that could kill a god. Nothing. He had absolutely nothing.

Dean cursed and sat down heavily on the bed.

What now? The more paranoid he acted, the closer Phobos got to winning this twisted game of his but he couldn't help it. He was struck with an unnatural fear. It was like ghost sickness all over again. He could barely do anything without his own thoughts warning him of random scenarios that might happen.

 _See that mirror over there? Look in it and you'll probably see_ _something horrible behind you._

_Look at that door. Was it open when you went to sleep?_

_I wonder what's under your bed..._

_No, no, no! Don't blink! Blink and you're dead!_

_No! Don't keep your eyes open! What if you see something that kills you just by looking at it?_

_Don't stand up! It can grab your legs now!_

_Don't sit down! It's harder to run now!_

_Did something just move over there?_

_Is there something behind you..?_

_No! Don't put your back against the wall. Have you ever even seen a horror film? Any second now, a hand will come out of the wall and grab you._

_Oh god! The door just slammed shut! Is the wind strong enough for-_

"Stop it!" Dean gritted his teeth, talking to himself, "You're being paranoid! Those assholes are winning right now!"

He took a deep breath, "I'll just try to call Sam or Cas again and..."

_Something else will answer. You'll get a message like "Don't look behind you" and there will be something there this time._

"Shut up"

He picked up the phone and was about to call Sam when the door handle suddenly dropped vertical. Something was opening it from the other side and it certainly wasn't the wind.

"Ohgodohgodohgod"

Dean grabbed his gun, hands shaking and his gun slipping in his sweaty palms. He stumbled away from the door and watched it as it began to get pushed open by an unseen threat.

"Get out!" Dean yelled and fired at the door. The thing immediately slammed the door shut again in panic. Dean sighed in relief but then the door began to  slowly creak open again.

"I said GET OUT!"

There was a hesitation, "...Dean..?"

Dean paused as well, suspicious, "Sam?"

"Yeah..." The door opened a bit more, "I was starting to think you weren't here and- What the heck, Dean?!"

Dean had fired his gun again. The door had opened a little too far for his liking, "Stay out"

"What-?"

"Prove that you're Sam. PROVE IT!"

Sam's alarm was clear despite the fact that Dean couldn't see his face.

"Ok. Just don't shoot me. I have a silver knife right here and-"

"No. Not that"

"Well I don't know how to prove I'm not a leviathan. I didn't bring anything for that"

"Not that either"

Sam peered through the crack in the door in puzzlement. Dean flinched at the concern in his eyes.

"How did you find me?"

"You left a voicemail. Castiel helped me track it"

"You're not Sam"

"Huh?"

"Why would Sam care about me? We hate each other. You know that very well, Phobos" 

"...Dean... I'm angry at you still but I know you wouldn't call so soon unless you had a good reason... And who's Phobos?"

Dean's vision began turning red again.

"I'm not falling for your tricks anymore"

Sam cautiously edged the door a little further open, "Can we just talk about this?"

Dean sighed. He didn't trust this Sam but still... It seemed so real.

"Ok, but if you do anything then I will stab you before you can blink"

"I understand" Sam opened the door carefully as if he still expected Dean to shoot him and stepped into the room.

"Where's Cas?"

"Busy somewhere. He didn't mention what he was up to but I'm guessing it has something to do with Metatron. He said he would arrive later"

Dean narrowed his eyes.

"So who's Phobos?" Sam asked, changing the subject.

 


	12. Foreshadowing is a bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean knows that isn't his brother and he will do anything to prove it.
> 
> Anything.

Sam waited patiently as he listened to Dean's story. Of course, Dean left a few things out like the nightmares and random pieces of information in case Phobos made a slip up.

"So how do I know you aren't Phobos?" He joked feebly, trying to lighten the mood. Dean just scowled. It wasn't Sam. It couldn't be.

Sam frowned as Dean stayed silent, "So how do we kill this thing?" He tried again.

"If I knew, I would say"

"I'm sorry for letting you get into this mess"

Dean just scowled harder. Yup. Not Sam. Definitely couldn't be Sam. Sam wouldn't be sorry. Heck, why would Sam care at all? He would probably say something about it being Dean's fault.

"You said there were two on the first night. Who's the other?"

"If I knew, I would say" Dean repeated, shooting Sam a dark look.

"Ok, ok. I was just wondering of you had any ideas about it or maybe didn't tell me something in case I was Phobos"

Dean felt his body stiffen. Of course Phobos would know wouldn't he? Wasn't this proof that he wasn't Sam?

"Why would I do that?"

"So if I was Phobos, I might make some mistake and reveal myself. I don't know. I'm just guessing on what I know about you"

Dean glanced sideways at Not-Sam. The illusion seemed so perfect. There was no difference to the real thing. Usually he didn't examine so closely but it seemed so much like Sam that he almost gave in to that concerned face that was so familiar to him but he wasn't a fool. He wouldn't make such a mistake.

"Dean?"

_Don't be fooled. Don't be stupid. Just kill him now while he's so close._

"I'm fine"

_The knife! Grab the knife!_

The voice wasn't his own thoughts. It was like in that dream. Was it Phobos?

_It's right there! Now! Take it! Don't let Sam see you!_

"Dean? Do you need that knife right now? Well if it makes you feel better...

Dean glanced down at his hands. He hadn't even realized that he had picked it up but there it was: The shiny silver blade. He could see his own face reflected in it.

_Kill him!_

He almost dropped the knife in alarm. His eyes had a crazed look in them. Just like the dream again.

_Kill him now._

Sam gazed at him concerned.

_Here's your chance!_

"...Dean..?"

_Do it!_

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no!

_Kill him!_

"Dean!?"

_Kill him!_

"Hey! Dean! Snap out of it!"

_Kill him!_

"I don't wanna" Dean whimpered.

_Kill him!_

"Don't want to what Dean?"

**_KILL HIM NOW_ **

Dean was aware of a loud yell and a string of curse words before the sensation of both of them slamming onto the ground in a tangle of limbs.

"DEAN! WHAT THE HECK?!"

He blinked, snapping out of his trance momentarily. Sam was pinned beneath him, eyes wide in horror.

He stared at Sam for a second... No. Not Sam. It wasn't Sam. It was frickin' Phobos again messing with him. His lips curled into a dark smirk of satisfaction.

_Now._

"DEAN!"

_Now._

"DEAN! PLEASE!"

_Now or never._

Suddenly, he was hit with a sickening crack right in the right side of his jaw just before his teeth bit down on Sam's neck. The shriek that came from his mouth wasn't quite human as he fell backwards, clutching at his broken jaw.

Sam stumbled to his feet and pinned Dean to the floor, shoving a gun straight into his temple.

"Christo"

Dean didn't flinch. He snarled, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

"What are you?"

"The real question is what are you?"

"What? I'm human. Dean-"

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" Dean screamed, "JUST KILL ME, PHOBOS. STOP PLAYING AROUND"

"Phobos? That's what this is about? You think I'm Phobos?"

"Not think. I _know"_

"Jesus, Dean. You- You're not yourself. Something is seriously wrong with you. Don't even try to deny it! You just tried to bite me!"

Dean blinked. He'd barely noticed that. It was so similar to his dream...

_He's distracted. The gun is loose. Strike now!_

"Just kill me now"

Sam shook his head, "Look, Dean, I'm not Phobos. We're gonna get out of here, ok?"

Dean just snarled.

"But first, there's something wrong with you. This isn't you. Did you even hear yourself just now? That was **not** human"

There was a pause.

**_Now_ **

Dean thrust out a leg, hitting Sam right between the legs in the painful part. He scrambled to his feet and sprinted out the door. He wasn't killing Sam but he wasn't risking Phobos again.

He heard Sam yelling out for him but he didn't stop running until he collapsed, gasping for breath and unable to move from exhaustion.

_You missed your chance. Failure._

He felt like crying but he wouldn't give Phobos the satisfaction.

_Failure._

 

 

 


	13. Choices are often difficult

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean runs into Cas and has to make a choice.

Dean regretted leaving Sam but, Sam or not, it was for the best. If it was Sam then he could try to kill him again and if it wasn't then Phobos might attack him again.

He couldn't help thinking about what Sam had said. He hadn't realized it before but there _was_ something seriously wrong with him. Just attacking Sam could be considered normal but trying to eat him? That was not normal.

Also, thinking about eating, he realized how hungry he was again. It hadn't been too long since he had last eaten had it?

Dean sighed and took another step forward glaring at the floor and immediately slammed head first into someone. His flight or flight response kicked in and he stumbled backwards, heart thudding and rearing to run but then he saw exactly who he bumped into.

"Dean? Where's Sam?"

"...Cas..?"

Cas peered down at him, concerned. Dean carefully shuffled away.

"Are you ok, Dean?"

"Y-yeah. Sure" His gaze flicked up and down, examining Cas. Nope. Still no certain way of seeing if it was actually Cas or not. The image was so perfect. Not a single crease on his clothing was out of place. He wasn't certain whether that proved that it wasn't Cas or if it proved that it was Cas.

"Have you seen Sam? I sent him ahead and he should be here but..." Cas paused, cringing, "If he's not with you then I fear-"

"I left him behind"

Cas' eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"I... I didn't trust..."

"Didn't trust him? But he's your brother!"

"No. I didn't trust myself"

That shut Cas up although he did stare rather quizzically.

Dean took several steps away from Cas.

"...Dean? What's wrong with your eye?"

Before Dean could ask what that meant, there was a yell behind him and Sam skidded around the corner.

"Dean" He smiled in relief, "I was worried that-"

Cas suddenly pulled Dean behind him, standing between the two. His expression was hard.

"Cas? What-?"

"That's not Sam"

"Huh?!" Sam and Dean said both at once.

 "Cas? What are you talking about?" Sam asked taking a step forward and then his eyes widened in realization, "You're not Cas! You're Phobos!"

"He's lying, Dean! That's a fake! I think that's Phobi or whatever it just said"

"Phobos" Sam corrected, "You're getting it wrong just to look innocent!"

"Dean! Don't listen to it!"

"Dean! Get away from him!"

Dean glanced between the two, feeling his brain seize up from fear. Which one? It could only be one, right? But then again... Dean bit his lip.

_Kill them both! They're both lying!_

He flinched, hearing the voice again. The nagging commands seemed to drown out Cas and Sam arguing.

Maybe this time it could be used to his advantage. Whether he was crazy or if it was some unnatural influence, perhaps he could get some sort of hint.

 _What's wrong with them both? What makes you so sure they're both lying?_ He asked carefully, unsure of whether he would receive a response.

_Look. We've already established that's not Sam. What about Cas? Would he have gotten the name Phobos wrong? It was a clear ruse. It's a simple enough name._

_Who are you?_

_That isn't important_

_But-_

"Dean? Dean!"

Dean was snapped out of his trance by Cas shaking him. He hadn't even been aware that he had been in a trance. How long had he been away?

"We've got to go!"

He glanced over at Sam who was looking around in desperation for something - anything - to stop Cas with.

"Wait" Dean paused thoughtfully, "I'm not sure which to go with yet"

"You need to make a choice. I suppose I can't stop you if you choose him" He nodded at Sam, "But I wouldn't advise it"

He didn't trust Cas the most but he was curious about what Cas had meant when he had mentioned the eyes. Phobos or not, this might be his only chance to figure out what was wrong with him. He flashed Sam an apologetic look and mouthed _I'm sorry._ Luckily Cas didn't notice.

"Alright Cas" He gave Cas - Or rather, not Cas - a small smile, "Let's go"

Cas smiled and turned, pulling out his angel blade, ready to kill Sam.

"No! Let's just go!"

Cas frowned but didn't complain, leading Dean away from his brother. Cas shot Sam a suspicious look as they left.

_I'm sorry._

_I'm so, so sorry._


	14. How not to let off steam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean needs some peace, quiet and (unfortunately) food. The voice in his head wants to chat. Cas gets the wrong end of the stick.

The strange voice didn't respond again after that. He was silent which Dean supposed was actually quite a bliss.

Cas strode ahead purposely. Dean watched him cautiously. Was it really Cas? Sam had seemed pretty real but so did Cas and they couldn't both be real... Unless Phobos was messing with them too.

"I hope the real Sam is ok..." Cas spoke up, startling Dean out of his thoughts, and glanced around before his eyes rested on Dean, concerned.

"What were you saying about my eye earlier?"

"It was... Was..." Cas hesitated nervously, "Doesn't matter. It was probably just nothing. I can't see it anymore so-"

"Dammit Cas! What was it?"

He swallowed, "I don't want to concern you about nothing..."

"Cas..."

"It just looked a bit bloodshot, that's all."

"That's all?"

"And... It... may have looked a different colour... Probably a trick of the light"

"What colour?"

"Grey but..."

Dean frowned. This was interesting information.

"Which eye?"

"Why is that-?"

"Which eye?"

"Right, but I don't see what this has to do with-"

"Son of a bitch!"

"Dean?"

Dean gritted his teeth. He had thought his eye was being funny because it had been removed and placed back again but how could he be sure that nothing had been done with it? Was it the same eye even? It had to be. He had never seen the optical cord cut but then again, Phobos could create illusions so who knew what could have actually happened. For all he knew, he could have replaced his eye with a god dammed marble and he would have never known the difference.

"Look, it was probably nothing..."

"Shuddup" His eyesight was turning red again. Uh oh.

"Dean..."

"I said Shut Up"

"But your eye-"

"I SAID SHUT UP!" Dean whirled on Cas, teeth grinding together so hard they made a grating sound. A sudden irritation had come over him like everything Cas said was just annoying. He needed some damn peace and quiet and he would be fine. The eye could wait.

Cas seemed to understand and fell silent. For five seconds, Dean was relieved.

_Don't you want to learn about your eye?_

"WHAT ABOUT SHUT UP DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?!"

"But I didn't say anything!" Cas' eyes widened in fear.

Great. Now he had that funny voice back again just when he needed some blissful silence. His eye twitched in contained rage.

_Just ask._

"Shutupshutupshutupshutup"

"Dean? Are you ok..?"

_Go onnnnn. Ask. Ask. Ask. Ask._

Dean couldn't punch the source of the voice so his rage was released on the next best thing.

Cas.

"Ow! What the heck?" Cas stumbled back, nursing his hurt nose.

"You're an angel. You have grace. Stop complaining"

"Temporarily. It's not the same. I still feel- Ow!"

Dean hit him again, relishing the sound and feeling of Cas' jaw crack.

_Go on!_

His fist came back again and slammed Cas in the skull, the crack resonating in the empty halls. Cas dropped like a stone, unconscious.

_Go onnnnn!_

He sat on top of Cas, his knees on Cas' arms, pinning him down.

_Go on!!!_

He brought his fists down again and again on Cas' face. Blood began to trickle from his now broken nose and the cuts on his temple. Bruises formed and Dean's hands became stained red but he still didn't stop.

_Yes!_

He stood up slowly.

_Yes!_

He lifted a foot.

_Yes!!!_

Cas seemed almost peaceful. It seemed a shame but-

_YES!!!_

The foot came down. Cas' face was crushed beneath Dean's shoe heel. Bones cracked and blood spilled.

Cas was alive but he wasn't handsome anymore.

Dean stepped back to admire his handy work. For just a second, a satisfied smirk flickered on the corners of his lips but then he remembered who he had just mutilated.

Cas' hair and face was a red, splattered mess. In the spots where he wasn't blood soaked, the skin was a wicked mix of blues, blacks and purples. He had a nasty black eye and his nose looked ruined beyond repair.

_What have I done..?_

He began to shake, biting his lip to hold back tears.

Cas... Cas hadn't done anything wrong...

_Best to put him out of his misery._

Dean wasn't sure if that was his own thoughts or the voice.

_Best to finish what you started._

He ran his tongue over his teeth. Were they just a little sharper than usual..? Was his tongue slightly more pointed at the end..?

"N-no" Finally, the tears poured loose, spilling across his face and dripping onto the floor, "Nononononononono NO!"

He was incredibly hungry. The mess on the floor that had once been Cas looked strangely appetizing. Would it hurt to..?

"No. Please..."

His stomach twisted in a mixture of starvation and disgust.

Now that he was thinking about it, the hunger was overwhelming. He had to eat.

Cas wouldn't miss it. He wouldn't miss it. He wouldn't...

Before he could have any second thoughts, he jerked down and sank his teeth into Cas' shoulder. A coppery spray squirted into his mouth and dribbled down his chin. Bile rose in his throat. He couldn't bring himself to bite down harder. Tears streaked his cheeks.

_I have to. I have to. I have to._

Dean took a deep breath through his nose and bit down harder. His teeth grated against bone making him flinch. He took another breath, shakier this time with the tears and fear.

He bit harder. The bones cracked easier than they should of. Dean whimpered.

Cas was still silent and unmoving. Was he dead? Dean was shaking uncontrollably.

_He'll understand. I had to. I had to..._

Finally, after a last deep breath, he pulled with his teeth. Skin and muscle tore. He sat back, strings of fat hanging from his mouth.

Forcing himself not to gag, Dean began to chew. He couldn't tell what it tasted like because most of the taste was drowned out by the overpowering smell and taste of blood. The texture was slimy and stringy, mixed in with the occasional crunchy bone shard.

Reluctantly, he swallowed. Maybe it hadn't been his best idea to swallow the bones too.

He swallowed a second time to make the vomit go back down. It burned in the back of his throat and almost washed out the taste of blood.

He sat there and sobbed, guilt overcoming him as the red faded from his eye.

_I had to. I had to..._

_Wait._

_Why did I have to?_

He had been hungry but...

"What have I done..?"

A twisted laughter filled his head. He stood up and ran. He didn't know where to jut away from Cas. He just didn't want to see the horror in Cas' eyes again or the betrayal when he found the missing shoulder.

His sight blurred with tears.

He couldn't convince himself that it had been Phobos or some illusion. It had been so real.

It suddenly occurred to him that eating it raw probably wasn't a good idea.

Eating it at all was probably a terrible idea.

Going with Cas was the worst idea.

This was his fault.

All of it.

And.

He.

Could.

Never.

Fix.

It.


	15. Ticking off a God isn't a good idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected revelation happens leading to a new enemy. Dean is absolutely screwed.

Dean hadn't gotten far before there was a rustle of wings and he collided head first with Cas. He collapsed onto the floor and stumbled back to his feet opening his mouth in preparation for an excuse or an apology.

_Oh god. He's going to hate me. He's going to hate me. Sorry. Sorry. Sorr- Wait, what? Oh sh**._

His mouth shut immediately in surprise and fear. He had been right. Cas was before him but it wasn't Cas. He had burning eyes of blue fire and teeth as sharp as daggers. His mouth was twisted into a snarl.

"Phobos"

Not-Cas just glared, his eyes blazing in fury. Blood dripped from his shoulder... Or rather, where his shoulder had been.

_Oops._

"My brother set you up to this didn't he?" Not-Cas snarled, circling Dean slowly and threateningly.

"Brother..?" Dean watched Phobos carefully. Was it Phobos? Something seemed different about him. What was it?

"D͡O͢͞N̵̕̕'͡T̵̶ ͞L҉̷I̵È ͝TO҉ ͜M͡È!́͘͘!̧́!̛̛" Dean flinched, the words searing itself into his mind, grating and ancient, "He told you to! Didn't he?!"

"I don't know what you mean! What brother?"

Phobos stared for a second and then he seemed to realize something and stiffened. There was a second of silence. Suddenly, Phobos began to laugh. It was horrible like the laugh of a madman. Maybe it was.

"Of course. Sometimes I forget how naïve humans really are" He stopped circling and stood in front of Dean, leaning forwards and balancing on the tips of his toes until they were eye to eye. He cocked his head to one side in an action that was exactly like Cas, "You really don't know?"

Dean just stared.

"No. Didn't think so" Phobos growled, "But naivety is no excuse for a crime"

Dean glanced down at the mutilated shoulder and swallowed. Had he done that? To a God? There had to be something wrong. If Phobos was controlling him then how had he done that? How did he tick off a God? Especially Phobos, the one controlling him. But it couldn't just be a voice if he had caused a God harm with just his teeth.

It was like he had a jigsaw puzzle and was missing about half of the pieces. Nothing seemed to fit. Nothing made sense.

As he stood there, paralyzed, one of the pieces suddenly fell into place. Phobos had seemed different and now he realized why: Phobos had red eyes, this thing had blue eyes.

"Who... Who are you?"

"Noticed eh?" Not-Phobos smirked, destroying any hope that maybe Phobos could just change eye colour.

"Brother... Are you Phobos' brother?"

"Now things are finally clicking in that brain of yours"

"Those voices on the first night... That was you and Phobos."

Not-Phobos' smirk grew to an unnaturally large and disturbingly toothy grin.

This changed things. If there were two then two people at once could be imitated meaning Sam and Cas could be fakes at the same time. He couldn't trust anyone anymore.

At that moment, almost everything should have made sense but then why did he get the feeling that something was still missing?

"Since you don't seem to be asking, my name is Deimos" Deimos stuck out a hand, presumably for Dean to shake. Dean stared down at it suspiciously.

"Now you're just being rude"

Dean knew he was going to regret it but he reached out his hand and shook it. Immediately, a sharp pain shot through his brain followed by an unexplainable wave of fear that paralyzed his entire body. Old memories flashed through his mind, forced to the surface by an outside force.

He saw himself back in a plane, the entire metal, unstable contraption plummeting towards certain death. He saw hell. He saw the disappointment on Sam's face. He saw Kevin dying, Lucifer, his mother burning and a ton of other things he would rather forget.

By the time it was over, Dean was curled up on the ground, sobbing and shaking uncontrollably.

"Well... That's quite a rude reaction to a handshake..."

Dean looked up at Deimos through tear-blurred eyesight.

"Don't worry. I know what to do. Just _ŗ͝͞͞ȩ̕͡l͏͝͝͡á͝x_ ̛͟͝͠"

His eyesight darkened and his eyelids became heavy.

The last thing he saw was Deimos leaning towards him, slowly changing forms as he reached out his hands towards him.

Could anything really look that horrifying? It was almost impossible to describe. The closest he could compare it to was a dog... If a dog had scales, horns and the body of a half spider, half human hybrid.

And that was just the tip of the iceberg.

" _Just a little gift after the lovely present you gave me..._ _"_

Deimos' insane laughter echoed in his head long after he had blacked out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phobos has a twin brother. It was in the lore so of course I had to include it. I also probably should have mentioned this earlier but looking up the names online could lead to spoilers since so much of this is based on Greek mythology. I think looking up names is fine for now.


	16. Friendship is black magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean bonds more with the voices in his head as he suffers the after-effects of Deimos.

Dean woke up with a splitting headache. The floor below him was already sticky and he really didn't want to open his eyes. Something was wrapped around his waist so tight that he struggled to breathe and something equally tight was around his wrists.

Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes slowly. The first thing he saw was his hands stretched in front of him in leather restraints on two sides of a long treadmill. He was laying on the treadmill on his stomach but the treadmill was already sticky with unnervingly fresh blood. Attached to his waist was another leather restraint which was stuck to the conveyer of the device. The torture device itself was luckily off. Deimos was nowhere to be seen.

He glanced around for a way out but he didn't seem to have any lock picks even if he could grab one and somehow unlock his hands. He was just stuck. Carefully, he moved his foot, craning his neck back to see if there was any way out. His foot suddenly hit something which felt scarily like a button. The machine whirred into action.

Dean stiffened. Slowly, the conveyer began to move, dragging his waist backwards and his arms were held firmly in place. It was stopped as soon as the waist stretched too far, stopping the conveyer. He was in the middle of breathing out a sigh of relief when there was a loud screech of cogs and suddenly the conveyer started again. This time, it was faster and stronger, determined to split him in two.

Dean yelled out in pain as he was stretched. There was a splitting pain in his arms that made it feel like they were being prised from their sockets. His shoulder blades were being twisted in ways that no shoulder blade should. Bone grinded against bone, muscle was on the verge of tearing and his stomach turned, ready to be sick which would be a terrible idea on a conveyer but that was the least of his problems. The treadmill was making sounds that a treadmill really shouldn't. 

 To add insult to injury, This Is Halloween started playing from the treadmill. Deimos had a sense of humour and Dean didn't like it.

Dean screamed, high and loud, forgetting pride. He didn't care if Sam was actually Phobos or if Cas was actually Deimos, he just wanted one of them to goddamn help him.

But help didn't come from either of them.

 _Dean. Listen to me._ _Don't say anything._

His scream cut off and he froze, listening.

_I know we're not on the best of terms but if you don't get out then you'll die._

Dean rolled his eyes. _Well duh._

_I said don't speak. You'll have to trust me here. Try to relax your arms, don't move them._

He was ready to create a snarky response but he bit his tongue and tried his hardest to relax.

_Don't try too hard. Just... That's it. Stay like that._

It didn't seem like relaxing, his arms were still being dislocated and his shoulder blades were in even more agony than before but he was ready to try anything at that point.

His arms suddenly went numb and for a second he thought they'd been torn off but when he looked up, they were still fine. A coldness swept through him from his numb arms, making him shudder. On the bright side, the pain was gone. All of it. Even his headache had eased off.

Slowly, his arms began to move of their own accord. His fingers curled around the leather restraints and, in one quick movement of superhuman strength, he ripped them straight off the conveyer.

His waist was jerked backwards and he was shoved hard against the ground. The numbness and coldness vanished and Dean had control of his body again.

_You're welcome._

Dean easily undid the restraint on his waist. It was a simple buckle instead of the locks on his wrists. Clearly he hadn't been expected to get out.

He stumbled to his feet, swaying and shaking. His vision was blurry and he couldn't see, move or think straight. The pain had returned with the vanishing of the numbness and his entire body felt like it was on fire. His arms were in so much pain that they were practically useless.

_I'm sorry I didn't help sooner._

_It's not your fault._

He didn't know how, but he knew that the source of the voice had smiled at that.

_Who are you?_

_A friend._

Dean was kind of suspicious of that but the voice had saved his life.

_Do you have a name?_

_For now, just call me M._

_M?_

M had nodded. Dean knew that the same way he knew when M had smiled.

_Is it short for something?_

_It always is. I don't know if I can trust you with my full name yet._

Dean was tempted to say: "Then call me D" but M already knew his name and calling him D would give a bad impression.

M laughed. Dean flushed bright red.

_What's so funny?_

_D?_

It hadn't occurred to him that M could read his thoughts and he felt nervous about it.

_I won't do it all the time. I'll try to stop._

_Thanks. So_ what _are you?_

_Sadly, the same as Phobos and Deimos. I'm a God or, rather, a deity._

_A God?_

_A Greek deity. Not one of the particularly known, worshipped or powerful ones._

_Deity of what?_

_I wouldn't want it to change your opinion of me._

_Fair enough but you won't tell me your name so you might as well tell me that._

M swallowed.

_Are you another God of fear?_

_Not quite._

When M stayed silent, Dean decided that he wasn't going to say anymore.

Dean tried to walk forwards only to smack head first into a wall and fall to the floor, head reeling.

_Maybe you should wait to recover a bit before you try to move. Call Sam again or something while you wait._

_That hasn't worked before._

_So? It's better than just sitting here._

M was right. Dean took a deep breath and dialled. His hands could barely hold the phone because they were shaking so hard and slick with sweat.

Someone picked up.

"W-who I-is th-thi-s?" He asked and immediately flinched at how pathetic and scared he sounded. Dammit, he sounded like a complete wimp.

 "You called, shouldn't you know?"

The voice sounded like Sam but it was so matter of fact that Dean knew it wasn't. Who was it then? Phobos or Deimos? Or maybe they had a third brother? It didn't seem too far fetched anymore.

"J-just leave me alone" He tried to sound threatening but his voice just came out as a squeak. Hopelessness and desperation began to overwhelm him, "P-please! What d-did I e-ever do to you?"

Finally he broke. A loud sob escaped him and tears streamed down his face.

"PLEASE!"

"...Dean..?"

He felt like screaming. Weren't they tired of these same damn tricks? Weren't they tired of pretending to be people they weren't?

"Shutup! Just stop it! LET ME OUT OF HERE!" He began sobbing horribly. He didn't care if Phobos and Deimos were enjoying it or laughing at him. He wanted to go home. He wanted out. Anywhere but there. He was willing to beg, "Why me? Why me? Why me?"

"Dean! Where are you? What's going on?"

"STOP IT! I know you're not Sam! I know! When is that damn trick gonna get old for you, huh? Who are you?!" Dean was yelling now. His sanity was holding on by a thread. He was so preoccupied that he didn't notice the shadow behind him that seemed to have found a life of its own.

"...Dean. Calm down. Just tell me what's going on"

It was ridiculous. Was he really still pretending to be Sam? This Is Halloween was still playing from the treadmill. The situation was just too odd to take seriously. He began to giggle, clamping a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stop himself. It wasn't long before he burst into fits of laughter. He couldn't stop sobbing between his giggling fit. His emotions were swinging back and forth between high, insane happiness and soul-crushing, suicidal depression with no in between. His eyesight was blazing red through his tear-blurred eyes but with the sorrow and joy, he couldn't care less. He had more on his mind.

Dean almost missed the faint words coming from the phone: "I'll find you. Don't worry, we're coming to help soon"

The strange shadow behind him suddenly curled around his leg and jerked him backwards. His emotions snapped to pure fear and he screamed.

"Dean!? Dean!" The fallen phone buzzed, "Hold on! We're coming!"

A black tentacle reached out and gently pushed a button on the phone. All sounds on the other end were cut off.

"Well, well, well" A hideous form that Dean recognized as Deimos stepped out of the shadows. The tentacles were sprouting from the small of his back, "Looks like the little mouse escaped my little mouse trap. How?"

Dean paused. So Deimos wasn't the source of the voice in his head. He hadn't really thought it was. M was different from Phobos and Deimos. Of course, he could never know with their acting skills but M felt strangely friendly and familiar like a part of him.

"Help from a friend"

"What friend?" Deimos' eyes narrowed in suspicion. He clearly suspected Phobos.

_We could use that. If we were to cause a fight between the brothers..._

Dean gave a little mental nod. He didn't know if M had picked up on it.

"I'll give you a hint, it sounds like phobia..."

The fury was evident immediately. Deimos' eyes blazed bright and hot and his lips were curled in a snarl. There wasn't even a flicker of doubt or surprise.

"That little... I͍̤̬̫ ͠k͉̕n̞̳͔̙ẹ͍̲̘̹̜w̦ ̺̪̝͡i̡̗̼̙̩̙t̰̖̖̲̫̬̖!̲͖̜͉ He's always acting up just because he's 'the most worshipped' and 'the best' well maybe I should congratulate him on his p̺͇̺̱̼͚ͅe҉͉̜̖̥r͠f̛͖͇͎̻̺e͍̖̲͔̩̭̫c̸t̨͖̜i̙͚͇̜̙̣͘o̦̳͜n͕̬̘̰̣̼ͅ..."

A smile flickered on Dean's lips. He forced it away and watched Deimos obediently. Clearly the brothers had been at each others throats for a while.

"Don't think you're getting off easy"

The joy in Dean was extinguished.

Deimos smirked and a tentacle shot out, seizing Dean by the neck.

"Since you helped me, I'll make this quick. It'll still be painful though"

His breathing was cut off and a sick feeling grew inside him. All this just to die next to a torture device playing This Is Halloween in a loop. Dammit.

_M?_

M didn't respond. Loneliness rose to join with his despair and sickness.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

Through fading vision, Dean saw Sam running towards them holding a gun. There was a bang and Deimos roared in anger before dropping Dean to the floor and fleeing.

"Dean? Dean!"

Dean blacked out.

_Not again._

 


	17. Mutations hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's fully aware that something's wrong with him.  
> 

"Hey! Hey! Don't do this to me! Please!"

Dean groaned and opened his eyes. He blinked twice and finally they focused.

Hovering above him worriedly was Sam.

"Hey? Can you hear me? You're going to be ok"

He sat up. His arms still ached like hell and the room seemed to be spinning.

"Dean? Dean!"

"Yes, I can hear you. Please stop shouting" Dean muttered bitterly.

"I'm not shouting" Sam watched him uneasily, "Look, don't push yourself. Phobos got you hard"

"Wasn't Phobos. Don't talk so loud"

"I'm not"

Everything was muffled like his ears were full of water. He could feel and hear the pulses of his heart in the dimmed noises. Despite this, Sam's voice shot through his brain, painfully loud and sharp. Dean clamped his hands to his ears and groaned again.

"Sh**. You're bleeding"

Dean lifted a hand to his nose, expecting a nosebleed. Instead, he felt a warm tickle on his cheek and his eyesight went red again.

"Dean!"

"Shut up" He wiped the blood from his cheek and frowned. Where had it come from?

"But-" Sam cut off after Dean gave him a sharp look and sat down.

It was then that he realized that his eyelashes were getting sticky. He wiped his eyes.

He was crying.

He was crying blood.

After all the things he had been forced to deal with recently, he was no longer even surprised.

Sam was silently watching, horrified.

"Do you have a tissue?"

He jumped like startled out of a trance and pulled a tissue from his pockets, handing it to Dean, still staring in shock.

Dean began dabbing at his eye. The tissue quickly became soaked bright red.

"Aren't you... Concerned..? You know? About..." Sam was stuttering.

Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam.

"What's wrong with you? We've face worse"

"But your eye- It just- How-? What the heck?! How are you not worried about the fact that your eye has just randomly started bleeding?!"

Dean winced. Now Sam really was yelling. His ears were ringing. He clamped his hands to his ears again and curled into a ball in an attempt to block out the sound.

"Are you ok?"

"Be quiet! I can't hear myself think!"

Dean growled. Sam jumped back in alarm. It hadn't been a normal growl, it was inhuman, almost animalistic.

He swallowed, desperate to say something but his talking seemed to be what had set it off in the first place.

Dean didn't seem to have noticed. He was still curled up on the ground in a ball with his hands clutched onto his ears so hard that the knuckles were turning white. He was beginning to shake too. Blood was still spilling from his eyes.

Sam grabbed another tissue and waved it in front of Dean but his eyes were tightly screwed shut so he didn't notice.

"Jesus" He whispered under his breath. He had never seen Dean like this before. Dean flinched at the noise and opened his eyes to glare at Sam.

He had been really quiet. Dean shouldn't have been able to hear him and yet he was scowling at Sam. He snatched the tissue from Sam's hand and began wiping his eyes again.

His face was smeared with the blood by now and his eyes were bloodshot. The iris's seemed to have changed colour to grey but Sam assumed it was a trick of the light.

He couldn't help but notice that the blood was mostly coming from the right eye.

 

It was a long time before the eye stopped bleeding. Dean finally sighed in relief and sat back. The muffled feeling in his ears was gone too. Sadly, his arms still ached like hell.

"What did you want to say?" He asked finally.

Sam opened his mouth then closed it again.

"Nothing. Just your eye was bleeding but I suppose you knew that already"

_That's not Sam._

"Not again. Not now"

"Huh?" Sam suddenly looked alarmed, "Is your eye bleeding again?"

"No"

 _What do you want?_ He demanded mentally.

_He lied. He was going to say something but it wasn't about your eye. That's Phobos or Deimos._

Dean flinched at the unexpected bitterness in M's tone especially when he said the names of the Gods.

_Liars._

"What is it then?" Sa- Not Sam asked.

"Nothing" Dean smiled but it was clearly fake. M's hatred seemed to be leaking into him and suddenly he hated Sam. He hated the lies. He hated the games.

_Liar._

"Ok. I think I found an exit nearby. It was unlocked but I'm not sure if it'll stay that way. We've got to go now"

_Liar._

"Well if you say so"

_Liar._

Sam turned his back on Dean.

_I hate liars._

It would be so easy...

_I_

Just a knife...

_Hate_

If he placed it in the right place...

_Liars_

"Dean?"

He was snapped out of his thoughts. Sam gazed at him worriedly.

"I'm fine. Let's find this tr- exit of yours" He almost said trap. He knew it wouldn't be Sam's trap though.

It was going to be Dean's.

As Sam turned his back. He noticed some strange black vines on his wrists. He pushed his sleeve over them and followed Sam.

He smiled.

 


	18. Karma is an asshole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In hindsight, trying to trick a paranoid Dean Winchester was a terrible idea...

"This way" Sam lead him down a corridor.

Dean rolled his eyes, "How much further is it?" He could feel the strange vines coiling on his arms impatiently. What were they? He wasn't sure but they seemed to be alive.

"Not much further now"

_Liar._

Dean fell silent and curled his fingers around his knife.

_Not yet. This might be a trap but maybe the exit is genuine._

He sighed and tugged his sleeve back over a vine which was trying to wrap itself around his fingers.

_I don't suppose you know what these things are?_

_Oh. Those._

He felt M stare at his arms and swallow awkwardly.

_Healing._

_Healing?_

_Your arms are badly damaged and nearly dislocated. Those are speeding up the healing process._

_But what are they?_

_What do you mean?_

_What are they?_

There wasn't an answer.

"We're here"

Dean nearly bumped into Sam as he stopped suddenly in front of him. They were in front of the entrance.

"It was locked when I checked" Dean grumbled, "Go on then. Open it"

Sam grabbed the door handle and pushed. It was frozen in place.

"Locked" The disappointment was evident in Sam's tone.

"Exit?"

"Well I can't help it if the door locked can I?"

"Mmm"

He slowly pulled out his knife and ran his finger over the sharp blade. There was a tiny shoot of pain and blood trickled from his open finger.

"Well that's too bad"

Sam stared at the knife and his gaze shakily rose to meet Dean's.

"D-Dean..?"

"You see" Dean continued, "I can find my way out without you. If you keep leading us to dead ends then you'll be the only dead end here"

"What the heck are you talking about?"

"I'm saying I can't afford to waste time like this"

"Dean, you- you can't- I'm your-"

"Brother? No. Can you prove that?"

"What do you want? A DNA test?" Sam asked, backing away. He was trying to be light-hearted but the fear was evident in his eyes.

_How cute._

Quick as a flash, Dean was pinning Sam to the floor. He held the knife against his neck and smirked. The smile was unnaturally wide. Sam was shaking like a puppy.

"What do you want? A DNA test?" Dean parroted. His eye twitched and Sam noticed the vines spreading around his fingers.

"Dean? P-please..?"

"P-please? Say it properly, p-please" He mocked and his teeth suddenly seemed so... Sharp. Should teeth be that sharp? Or long..? And his nails? Were those nails or claws?

"Please!"

"That didn't sound polite enough. Try again."

"Dean..."

"That wasn't even close" 

"Please?"

"Good. Now again. Louder" Dean cocked his head to one side, "I want to hear you _beg"_

"Please!" Sam was near the point of tears now.

"Again. Louder,"

"D-Dean..."

"Beg"

"PLEASE!"

Sam burst into tears. This was wrong. This wasn't Dean.

"Are you expecting pity? Really?" He raised an eyebrow and pushed the knife harder against Sam's neck. Blood trickled free. "I liked it that time. Beg again"

"PLEASE! STOP IT!"

Dean gently caressed Sam's face. Sam gagged as the vines touched his cheek. They felt slimy.

"Such a pretty face. What a shame"

"W- what's a sh-shame?" Sam feared the answer.

Dean answered by raising the knife and jabbing it straight into Sam's eye. There was a scream and Sam writhed in pain. Dean raised the knife and brought it down again. He repeated it over and over until the screaming stopped. His face was blood splattered. Sam's eye was a mess of blood and fleshy strings.

Phobos or Sam, he was dead. He was dead.

Dean sat back. Should he feel bad? He didn't. All he felt was an overwhelming joy. He should be worried that maybe it was actually Sam. He should be worried that he had just brought Sam or Phobos to tears. He didn't. He was happy. He was excited. He was _free._

"Next stop" He hissed in the ear of the corpse as if it could still hear, "Your brother"

Insane laughter echoed through the halls.


	19. Don't lose your head.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean loses it. Deimos is the one who is screwed now.

"Oh, Cas?" Dean sang as he strode purposefully down the corridor, "I'm sorry about earlier. We can make it up, can't we? I got rid of Sam. He can't get in our way anymore. Do you like that? Please come out. I just want to play"

The corridor was silent.

"You're not scared are you?"

That provoked a reaction.

"Scared? S̷̛̛͞c̨̕à̸҉͏́r̷͟͡è̛͢͠d̶̢̕͘͠?̢̕͢͜͢!̨͜ How DARE you!"

Cas was before him. Or rather, Deimos.

"You came!" Dean beamed and Deimos' eyes widened, taken aback.

"Aren't _you_ scared?"

"Of what? I just killed Sammy. Fourteen blows to the eye with a knife. He's gone. He's Dead!" He bounced up and down on his heels, "Are you happy Cassy? Are you proud?"

Deimos stared, "What do you mean?"

"Phobos is dead! Sammy is dead! You hated him right? I saw how paranoid you were about him"

The God of fear blinked slowly and took in Dean's bloody appearance, "No. That's... That's impossible"

"Nothing's impossible just incredibly improbable"

Deimos was scared. He could see it. In his eyes, in his stiff posture, in his slightly shaky hands. The blue fire in his eyes had dimmed and he no longer seemed so powerful.

"What- What's wrong with you?"

"He was annoying me. Now..." Dean leaned close and his eyes glistened grey, "...Where's the exit?"

Deimos saw his grey eyes and anger blazed into his eyes, "M"

Dean sniggered and nodded.

"You- You betrayed us!"

"M hates you" He paused, listening to M and then added, "And he betrayed you? How could he work for you after what you did? He never agreed to it"

"But he's weak! M can't kill Phobos he-"

"You underestimate me" Dean purred, M speaking directly through him, "I can kill you two easily. You believed me weak, huh? Vulnerable? You thought I would be your perfect slave? No-one ever told you who I was? How adorable"

"You-" Deimos backed away until he hit the wall.

"I thought you weren't scared?" Dean asked, back in control.

"I'm not"

"Then why are you trying to escape?"

Deimos edged towards the door

 "What are you? What are you really?" Deimos tried to sound calm, his eyes flicking between Dean and the door. It was close enough to reach quickly but Dean could see exactly what he planned to do. The Winchester grinned and dragged out his knife, still blood-stained with the blood of a brother. Whose brother was not yet known.

"Nothing out of the ordinary" Dean caressed the knife, seeming distracted by the wet, red blade. For a second, he caught a glimpse of his reflection and almost recoiled in shock. Did he really look that insane? Was he really that changed? It was wrong. He was wrong. He couldn't... He had killed... He...

_Calm down. It's alright. It was self defence._

M's voice was soothing and Dean immediately relaxed, the massive grin returning to his face.

Deimos took the opportunity to make a break for the door. The wind blew it shut with a slam, hitting Deimos in the face and causing him to fall onto the floor with a cry. His back hit a particularly rotten floorboard and there was a creak of wood with a faint snapping sound.

"Oops" Dean reached out a hand to help him up. Deimos shuffled away from it, scared. The floorboards broke and Deimos fell. There must have been a cellar below because there was the sound of glass shattering and a shelf falling over. In the darkness, Dean could see a growing pool of liquid growing around a fallen shelf and a ton of broken glass. The liquid was red but it was too thick to be wine.

He turned to leave when there was another sound from the hole. Glancing down, he could see a hand reaching out from under the shelf. It was inhuman and cut, broken and dislocated beyond repair. The hand pawed at the ground in a feeble attempt to drag itself free before falling limp.

_"Please"_

Deimos' final words echoed in the empty space. He was dead without a doubt.

 _What is it with creatures and their strange obsession to cling to life?_ M mused, _Gods, Angels, Humans, Demons. They all share this obsession. Why cling to something so desolate and hopeless when they know that they are sure to lose it some day? It doesn't matter how. All creatures will come to an end. I too shall someday leave this Earth. Immortality is an illusion. A word to describe living slightly longer than expected._

There was a small snort of derision.

Dean paused and thought about it, "I don't know"

_Nothing is permanent._

He was about to respond when there was a noise: A car outside.

_Looks like your family's come to pick you up from school._

"I guess my call really did get through"

_I guess it did. We're getting out of this hellhole._

"Yeah. Together?"

_Together_

He headed to greet his brother and then realized something.

"I still don't even know your name"

_Does it matter? I suppose if it makes you feel better then I'm Moros._

"Hey Moros"

Moros smiled.

_It has been a while since someone has used my full name._

The pair stood and waited as the door was forced open and daylight flooded into the room. The first time Dean had seen natural sunlight in three days.

_Freedom._


	20. A little out of character

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam notices that something's wrong with Dean but Dean wouldn't keep secrets from him again... 
> 
> ...Would he?

Sam arrived at the house feeling sick with worry. Would Dean be alright? Was it too late?

He kicked open the door, holding his gun tightly, ready for whatever was there.

Silence echoed through the halls. It was a large house and it looked like it hadn't been lived in for years. Had he even gone to the right location? Dean's Impala had been outside but doubt still nagged at him. It just didn't look like anyone had even opened that door for a while; it had been boarded up with no other signs of entry or exit.

Cas was glanced at him, clearly thinking the same thing.

Then his doubts were washed away and replaced with relief. Dean had run in and was gazing at him in a look of hope and excitement.

Sam started forwards then stopped suddenly. Was that blood? Dean was splattered red and holding an equally red knife. His eyes seemed grey in the darkness but his teeth glistened white. His mouth was twisted into a massive grin that seemed to split his entire face in half. Held in his right hand was a head: Sam's head, bloody, eyeless and severed. It had to some kind of shapeshifter or something but it still sent chills down Sam's spine.

"Dean..?"

Dean blinked and stopped grinning, his mouth shrinking into a slight, sly smile, "Heya Sammy"

"You ok?" He asked worriedly, still staring at his own mutilated head.

"Just finishing up here" His brother casually tossed the head to Sam as if expecting him to catch it. Sam, of course, jumped out of the way as the head rolled at his feet. It was eerily accurate but the most unnerving thing was the amount of violence that had gone into killing it. Severing the head should have killed it, whatever it was, but it was also bruised and the empty sockets that had once contained eyes had scratch marks proving that they had been gouged out. The blood under Dean's nails proved who had gouged them out.

"Shapeshifter?"

"No but close enough" Dean strode past him, "What are you doing here?"

"You called me, remember?"

"No"

Sam paused, "Really? You sounded worried on the phone and..."

"Then it wasn't me. You thought I would freak out? Seriously?"

It did sound pretty unrealistic. Sam was suddenly embarrassed for getting so worried.

But something still nagged at him.

"You seem awfully perky today"

"I got locked in. Whether you called me or not doesn't matter, I needed someone to open the door for me. I'm just happy to finally get a way out"

"It was boarded up, not locked"

"Was it? Huh. Well let's just get out of here. I'm starving"

Sam hesitated as Dean stepped outside, "Are you sure you're alright?"

Without a single pause, Dean brought out his silver knife and slashed it across his arm carelessly and a lot deeper than it should have been before unscrewing a bottle of holy water and splashing it over the cut. He didn't even flinch. He showed the cut to Sam as proof.

"Fine. I'm not a demon or a shapeshifter, see? Stop fussing. I haven't slept in ages and I had to eat some weird things to not starve to death so I'm probably a bit off"

"Jeez, for a shapeshifter?"

"Two shapeshifters"

"Two? Does it make a difference?"

"I didn't realize I'd get locked in, did I?"

Cas had been silent throughout this exchange and frowned at Dean. Dean just walked out the door and headed towards his own car, dragging out a bottle from his pocket that looked like it had oil in it and refilled the Impala. He had clearly found it somewhere in the house. Sam didn't question him.

Dean's strange behaviour was creepy but if it was just a lack of sleep and some expired food then he'd be ok soon.

He decided to test Dean more thoroughly when they got back at the bunker.

It was probably nothing.

Right?


	21. Possesion isn't limited to demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam starts to get suspicious.

Dean's personality wasn't fixing. Sam had tried everything to figure out what was up with his brother including devil traps, salt, holy water, silver, borax and even getting Cas to check Dean's soul. The only evidence he had was that Cas said that Dean was badly damaged both mentally and physically but in what way was not yet known.

What could have possibly happened on that hunting trip?

He supposed there was a silver lining, Dean was incredibly perky and optimistic all the time which couldn't help but make Sam feel a bit better too but it also was weird and unsettling.

At first he had decided that it was a witch's curse and all he needed to do was find a cure but the cure that he found wouldn't work. He wasn't sure if he'd done it wrong. Dean just reassured him that it was the bad food he'd had and that it would wear off eventually.

At one point they found out what happened to Garth and Sam found out that Dean could be serious when he tried. He managed to convince Garth that it was still him and that there was nothing unusual. Garth didn't notice a single thing and eventually they parted ways.

One thing Sam noticed was Dean's increased brutality. Ever since the "Incident" he was more violent than needed to kill monsters and merciless. At one point he found a demon that they had been hunting hung up by the neck with his teeth pulled out and the roots stabbed into the tongue. Dean claimed to know nothing about it but Sam had noticed him admiring a bloody tooth before throwing it in the trash only a day after the hunt.

There was another time when an angel was found hanging from its own intestines and missing its organs. Sam hadn't had any reason to suspect Dean until he found a heart in Dean's room sliced in half. Dean said he didn't know how it had gotten in their and then made a joke about broken hearts. Sam was scared to think about what happened to the rest of the organs.

Despite his happy attitude, Sam had caught Dean crying in his room several times. Dean refused to admit that he had been crying which meant Sam couldn't find out why.

Cas, unfortunately, left after a while. He'd stayed for a while to keep an eye on Dean but, with all that was still going on outside, he couldn't stay for long and he wasn't noticing the same things that Sam had been noticing. Sam couldn't help but notice that Dean had been eyeing him since Cas left in a way that could almost be described as... Hungry...

The crying became more frequent. On a few nights, he could faintly hear Dean sobbing loudly in his room. He had learned that asking about it was useless. He had also glimpsed a series of bloody gashes on Dean's arms, some fresh and some old. Dean was wearing long sleeves to try and hide it but sometimes it started dripping. Sam pretended not to notice which seemed to make Dean a little happier.

Over time, Dean began to start talking to himself. It was fine at first but soon it was full blown, one side conversations that often ended with Dean laughing at some joke. Disturbing was an understatement. The laughter was grating, unbroken giggles that seemed almost inhuman and could go on for whole minutes before Dean collapsed, gasping for breath and suddenly looking fearful like even he had noticed the thing he was becoming.

On several occasions, Sam considered begging Cas to come back.

His brother was falling to pieces and he didn't know what to do. He wasn't sure if he was making it better or worse.

_Oh God. Someone help him._

 

 


	22. Snitches get stitches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam had been lucky for a while and the reappearance of a friend forces Dean to take drastic measures...

_Sam's been lucky so far._ Dean gazed after his brother as he grabbed a book from the shelf and sat down, _How boring._

He was hiding behind a wall and peering around to watch Sam.

It turned out that Moros had a few powers of his own and Dean was learning to harness them but he was bad at it. Apparently Moros was the one who orchestrated the unfortunate chain of events that lead to the demise of Deimos.

Dean focussed on the books above Sam's head. One large, brown, leather clad book edged towards the end of the shelf like some invisible person was trying to drag it off but the book was wedged in tight. His focus broke and the book stopped moving. The power was surprisingly energy consuming.

Moros assured him that it took thousands of years to perfect but Dean was frustrated. Sam was the perfect guinea pig for the weapon but he hadn't even noticed a single thing. He was on the tip of just grabbing a knife and stabbing the damn idiot but Sam was trained. If he failed then he wouldn't get another chance. The telekinesis or whatever it was called meant that it could be passed off as a ghost or an accident.

He weirdly missed Cas. He had planned to kill the angel first while he was weak but he had never been able to bring himself to kill Cas. After all, Cas had understood him when he had saved Sam. Sam on the other hand...

Dean snarled, the vines on his arms curling tightly around his fist.

They were still there but they had spread over his entire arm. He had a feeble control over it like the rest of Moros' powers like he could make them shrink back to hide them from Sam.

As he watched, suddenly the book he'd been trying to move dropped off the shelf and hit Sam on the head. Dean was bewildered.

_That wasn't me._

Sam jumped up in alarm and looked down at the book. He frowned and looked up at the place it had fallen from. He placed it back and continued reading.

_Moros? What the hell was that?_

_I don't know. It looks like something else is trying to get attention._

_Who?_

_Who knows? A ghost probably._

That brought Dean to attention.

_But a ghost couldn't be in the bunker. It's been so long and that means that..._

_Someone witnessed us._ Moros finished.

As if to confirm their fears, the lights flickered. Sam stared up, suspicion appearing on his face. It was almost funny.

"Dean!"

"Yeah?" Dean slipped out from behind the wall and beamed at Sam.

"Did you see that?"

"See what?"

"The lights flickered"

"The bunker's a safe place, it's probably just electricity acting up"

"Yes but just before the lights flickered, a book fell on my head"

"You sound really paranoid"

"I know but-" Sam faltered.

"We've been in this bunker for ages, why would a ghost wait until now to get it's spook on? It's not like anyone has died recent-" Dean froze, the implications dawning on him, "...No... It... It can't be..."

"Well it seems like the most likely-"

"No! Don't you dare even suggest-"

"-That it's Kevin" Sam finished, ignoring Dean.

"I burned the body myself, Sam. It's not Kevin" Dean snarled, shrugging off the funny look Sam was giving him.

Sam shrugged, "We'll see"

Dean turned and stormed off leaving Sam staring at him suspiciously but he had bigger problems in his mind. He knew he had to do something but what? He had burned the body, what more could be needed? The problem was that if it was Kevin then he would certainly snitch.

How would he kill something that was already dead?

Destroying all of Kevin's stuff would be suspicious especially if it wasn't actually Kevin.

He would have to strike before Sam could be warned. He had one chance to get it right and he didn't even have time to plan.

Sam was oblivious to what was about to occur, sitting on the chair and reading the book. He glanced up every now and then to look for any signs of ghosts.

_Moros? You can use your powers better than I can. Can't you just kill him now?_

_That would take the fun out of it._

Dean rolled his eyes.

_Well if this ghost is stuck haunting the bunker then maybe we could draw Sam out?_

Dean paused thoughtfully.

 _I mean,_ Moros added, _Kevin might get in the way if we do it here._

_But how do we get Sam out? We don't have a case and he'd probably want to stay to look for ghosts anyway._

Moros didn't respond. Dean sighed. He did that a lot. He was gone and, all of a sudden, Dean felt horribly alone. A wave of despair engulfed him so quickly that for a second his mind went blank. This happened a lot and often without warning. It almost always happened when Moros vanished like some sort of weird addiction. It was like a veil had been lifted and the guilt hit him in a massive wave of misery.

He looked down at his arms. The vines on his arm receded a bit and he gazed at the messy rows of scabs on his wrist miserably. He picked at one until blood began flowing from it again. The blood was oddly satisfying. Since he couldn't kill Sam or Cas, sometimes he had to revert to something else to take out the stress on. Mostly it was monsters but he didn't always have a case. The vines could easily heal the cuts in seconds but Dean refused to let them.

As he watched the blood flow, he felt his eyes sting with unshed tears. He bit his lip in an attempt to stop himself crying. He wasn't going to be a wimp. No-one would be sympathetic to him if he cried so what would be the point? The more he thought, the more his eyes stung. Now what? Moros had abandoned him yet again, Cas has abandoned him, Sam hated him, Kevin was a ghost (and probably hated him) and there was no-one else around to talk to.

Not that he would talk anyway. What was he supposed to say? _I'm a failure that's working with a monster because I couldn't fend for myself against two weak deities? I caused Kevin's death and I probably broke Sam? I can't last one day without trying to kill everyone?_ They would hate him even more after that.

He had apologized about Gadreel countless times but what good did that do? He could say sorry as many times as he wanted but it wouldn't change a thing.

_"I'm poison. People get close to me and they die"_

He sat down heavily, hands trembling.

_"Don't go thinking that's the problem because it's not"_

What was that supposed to mean? Was Sam suggesting that he didn't try hard enough? Was that his problem? He was too reckless to stop them from dying or too stupid to think of a better way?

His eyesight blurred. Tears slid down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry" He looked up, "Kevin, if you're listening then I'm sorry. This is all my fault and I know you hate me. Just... Just tell Sam that I'm leaving and don't try to follow me. Not that he would but..."

Dean swallowed, voice cracking, "I'm not... I'm not..." _I'm not forcing myself on anyone anymore._

It didn't matter where he went or if Sam followed. If Sam followed then he could finally kill him and if he didn't then he could go off on his own for once. He didn't know where. Maybe he could live a normal life or maybe he could hunt monsters. Maybe he could hunt down Cas and kill him. Perhaps he could fulfil his promise to kill Gadreel. Perhaps he could make a deal to bring Kevin back. What did he have to lose? There was a whole world out there and he was stuck with some of the people who hated him the most.

Dean turned to leave. Everything he needed was in the Impala so there was no need to pack. He had been planning this for a while every time Moros went silent but had never had the heart to do it but Kevin changed things.

The lights flickered again.

Dean ignored them.

 


	23. A little break never hurt anyone...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things can get really bad really quickly and Dean learns that the hard way.

_Huh?_ Moros cracked open one of his many eyes and frowned. What was Dean doing? He was getting into the Impala but Sam wasn't there. _What is he..?_

He gently reached out his conscious and entered the slimy web of vines on his arm, curling a leaf to confirm his control.

 _Hey Dean?_ He asked cautiously, radiating a calming aura. He was disgusted at the aura but if he wanted this done right... 

Dean didn't respond. His aura wasn't even getting to him. He changed tactics. The snake-like plant mass wrapped carefully around Dean's brain, connected from Dean's right eye, sent an electrical signal to create an endorphin rush, aka, instant happiness.

Dean squirmed and resisted. Moros paused. In his experience, humans usually preferred to be happy but Dean was resisting. Unhappy thoughts swirled in Dean's head as if to purposely make him sad again. Moros was enjoying the despair but it was interfering with his plans.

_Come on, Dean. Answer me?_

Dean couldn't help but relax a little, _I need a break._

_Huh? A break? Is this a plan to drag Sam out?_

_No, a proper actual break. Not everything is about killing._

There was a bitter tone to Dean's thoughts and he tensed up again.

 _Things are a little too urgent right now for that wouldn't you think?_ He snaked up Dean's arm slightly. A tiny, grey eye opened on the stem to peer at his host. His host didn't notice the eye but was now sitting in the car, hesitating to turn it on as if he was unsure. _You can have a break after-_

 _You abandoned me._ Dean cut in, suddenly, _Again. You wouldn't help even though it concerns you too. How can I trust you?_

Moros recoiled, _I helped you. I got you away from Phobos and Deimos. I can't always be here. I need rests too._

_Well so do I so that's what I'm doing._

Alright. Stay calm. He couldn't do anything rash. Not yet. Dean could still be convinced. He could-

Dean turned on the car. It was like a sign of a final decision.

Moros' leaves trembled anxiously. This could ruin everything.

_Dean please._

Silence. He gripped the steering wheel and prepared to go.

You had your chance. You could have been fine.

 _I see._ Moros said quietly in defeat, _So... You aren't one for following orders huh? Fine. Neither am I._

Dean still didn't respond but he hesitated, curious.

_But, Dean. I'm afraid this isn't a choice. I'm sorry._

Dean blinked in surprise, his thoughts whirring to try to decipher the message. In an instant, the vines around his brain sent out a shockwave. Every limb in his body went numb and limp, out of his control. Panic set in and Dean tried desperately to figure out what was happening. Moros began to spread out, the body of the plant he was inhabiting growing at rapid speed as it coiled through his body. It tightened around the ribs, attaching itself to the heart to become irremovable without killing Dean himself.

After that, it branched out to each out his limbs. Arm and leg bones were wrapped in a living mesh to replace the useless muscles. The plant dragged itself around his spine next, using it to straighten the paralyzed vessel and to crawl up the neck again. He fixated himself to the jawbone and buried the sharp end of the vine into the tongue base, digging its way inside until the tongue became like a puppet for the creature.

Dean had become a grotesque puppet of flesh, bone and plant matter.

The worst part was that Moros hadn't even bothered to numb the pain, just his control. Dean had felt every tighten and every cut as the monster dug through his muscles and up his nerves. He was painfully aware of the slimy worm every single second. He could feel his ribs crack and bend under the pressure as well as the torn strips of muscle and vein that littered its path. The plant still writhed and squirmed under his skin, unseen from the outside but could still be felt.

He wanted to scream or to cry out or to even beg for mercy but his tongue was tied - rather literally.

He couldn't even fall asleep. He was horribly pulled awake through the pain that should have made him pass out at that point and his eyes were held wide open.

Moros slowly moved his new body. The head moved first. He blinked his eyes and moved his head up to straighten. The vines experimented, pulling his body to sit perfectly upright while manually inflating and deflating the lungs through the mouth and then through the nose. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of the body move as smoothly as clockwork as the plant got into the beautiful rhythm of the human body.

"It's been so long since I've had a body" Moros murmured quietly in Dean's voice with Dean's tongue, the vibrations that it caused through his bones making him shiver in appreciation. He made a satisfied purr and turned the car off.

 _Please._ Dean was thinking, through the pain, _Please..._

"Don't worry. I'll finish what we started"

Moros winked and left the car, heading back to find Sam.

Dean could do nothing except watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I've been getting a little bit into Undertale lately and I really liked the possession AU so... Now I've gone off plan so I'm just making this up as I go along from here on... Which I was kind of doing anyway buuuut...


	24. Tangled up in a prickly mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is a little wrapped up in the situation. Hopefully thistle be resolved soon but things aren't very vine for him right now. Ivy-eel that its bite is worse than its bark. Wood this have ever ended well? I should probably stop rooting for the bad guys but bayleaf me when I say that, although I shouldn't have branched out, there is potential stemming from this. Yew may not be enjoying this but don't be such a beech... Berry sorry. I'll stop beating around the bush.  
> Too much?  
> I'll leaf now.

Sam watched curiously as Dean wandered back into the bunker. His steps were more shambling and disorientated now like he was dizzy and his mouth was dragged into a massive grin that seemed horribly forced, slightly twitching as if he was trying to stop smiling but his muscles were refusing. Hollow eyes gazed around, looking like he was in a great amount of pain and was almost pleading. They were slightly wet with unshed tears and bloodshot except the veins were black and seemed to be moving. His irises seemed grey in the light which only added to the effect.

It was like watching some sort of zombie or a monster out of a horror movie. Sam shuddered despite himself.

He cleared his throat, "Hey Dean!"

Dean turned to smile lopsidedly at Sam and bounded forwards clumsily, "Oh hi, I was looking for you!"

"Outside?"

Dean shrugged.

"What the hell happened to you out there? You look like you were dragged backwards through a bush"

"I tripped" Dean pulled a leaf out of his hair.

"Mhm" Sam took a deep breath. He had to hold himself together. This was still Dean... Except... _Was_ it? He had been acting off lately but this was a whole different level of insane.

His survival instincts were screaming at him to run. Dean's very presence seemed to emit an aura of fear and despair that felt like Sam had lost before he had even begun. Against all his natural instincts and common sense, he turned his back on Dean- or rather the thing that had taken his brother- and pretended to be looking for something.

There was the quiet sound of a knife being unsheathed. Sam's breath caught in his throat and his heart began to race. He pretended not to hear.

There was the sound of someone walking forwards slowly.

_Step._

_Pause._

_Step._

_Pause._

_Step._

Sam carefully walked over to the bookcase as slowly as he could without panicking and running. He needed to stay away from Dean.

_Step._

_Pause._

_Step._

_Pause._

"Hey, Dean?"

"...Yeah..?"

"You remember that ghost from earlier?"

"What about it?"

"Do you really think it might be Kevin?"

_Pause._

"I'm not sure"

_Step._

"But" Dean continued.

_Pause._

"I think"

_Step._

"That maybe"

_Pause._

"Just maybe..."

_Step._

"It is"

Sam's blood ran cold. On those last words, he felt Dean's breath on the back of his neck. It smelled strongly of roses and grapes. Dean's breath was shaky and forced.

He turned around.

Dean had a knife raised high above his head.

It was directed straight at Sam's neck.

Sam bit his lip and watched.

Just before the knife could descend, a book flung itself off the shelf and slammed into Dean's head at full force. Dean stumbled back in surprise and alarm. A strangled cry escaped his throat making Sam wince in sympathy. It sounded so desperate and sad. The knife flew out of his loose fingers as he dropped to the floor and skidded to a halt at Sam's feet.

Dean lay there for a moment before shakily rising onto all fours. His breathing was heavy and rattled slightly as if he needed to cough.

He seemed so pathetic and weak down there. Sam knew he should be tying Dean up or knocking him out but he couldn't. He was paralyzed with a growing feeling of sorrow and dread.

Suddenly, Dean's head snapped upwards. His lips curled into a feral snarl and his eyes had lost whatever was left of Dean to be replaced by pure hate. A trickle of blood dripped from his nose. Sam snapped out of his horror and quickly tackled Dean, handcuffing his hands together and pinning him to the ground. There was a strangled screech of outrage from below him as De- the creature- struggled violently in sharp spasms.

That was when Sam noticed something. There were thick vines coiled around Dean's wrist. They were dead and shrivelled but they writhed like a living entity and, instead of the normal brown of a dead plant, was black with a thin coat of oily slime.

Ignoring the inhuman roaring beneath him, Sam pulled up Dean's sleeve and examined them closer. The vines sank into the flesh just below the elbow but were still clear under the skin like dark veins... That is, if veins could wriggle. 

They seemed to vanish at Dean's shoulder.

He stood up, not quite wanting to see anymore at that moment. He kept his foot planted hard onto Dean's back. There was a flicker of movement from behind him.

"I'm sorry I couldn't warn you earlier. Maybe if I had managed to..."

Sam turned to face Kevin. Kevin was disappearing and reappearing sporadically as he gazed at Sam guiltily.

"It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have. It's just lucky that you managed to warn me at all. Thanks for saving me back there"

The ghost of Kevin stared down at Dean, "What's wrong with him?" he murmured miserably.

"I don't know" Sam replied, "But we'll find out soon"

He pulled out his phone and called Cas.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? An UPDATE? Woah, I've finally dragged myself off my ass long enough for an entire chapter. Hope you enjoy!


	25. Love is blind. So is hate.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Dean still acting feral, Sam and Cas decide to get to the bottom of it.  
> Dean had other plans.

Dean frowned as his eyelids fluttered open. His head felt like someone had stabbed a javelin through it. He groaned and looked up through blurry, sticky eyes. He couldn't quite make anything out except shadowy shapes crossing his vision in a field of white that made his vision seem foggy. He could hear voices but they seemed so far away.

_...What... What happened..? Why can't I think straight..? Why..? Where..!?_

He turned his head slightly and wiggled his fingers. His hands were handcuffed together and he was clearly sat down in a chair of some kind. He stared up at a pair of blurry silhouettes before him.

"Hey... I think he's awake!"

Dean blinked and turned to gaze at the figure who had spoke. He squinted but he couldn't figure out who it was. What had happened? The last thing he remembered was wimping out and trying to leave. Had Moros stopped him? That would be good. He couldn't leave until he had finished off Sam and he had no idea what had come over him to make him breakdown like that.

_Moros? Moros, are you there? No?_

Who were the figures before him? The one that had spoken was quite tall. It must be Sam. Dammit.

"Dean? Dean? Can you hear me?"

That was the other figure that time, the shorter one. He had no idea who that was. It had only been Sam and Dean in the bunker. He gazed at the figure.

"He's not responding. What did you say happened again?"

"He attacked me. I think he was possessed or something. The point is that he wasn't himself"

"He's not possessed now"

"No?"

"No"

"That's great and all but so far we haven't been able to tell"

The shorter one bent forward and Dean felt a hand touching his forehead.

"There's certainly... A presence. It was there before but it was so faint that I mistook it for emotional damage. It's stronger now"

"Do you know what it is?"

"I'm not sure yet. I have a theory but..."

Dean zoned out at that point. He couldn't hear Moros but he could feel his presence, nudging him. He tested the handcuffs and focused his powers on the keyhole. He had never tried anything like this before with the powers but he didn't need to move anything too big too far. The mechanisms clicked as he pushed them out of the way. He held his breath. The final latch clicked and the handcuffs popped open. He didn't move his hands to shake them off. That would make noise.

He looked back up at the figures.

"...That sounds painful" Probably-Sam was saying.

"It probably was"

"Geez. Well how do we remove it?"

"I don't know yet but maybe if we find out exactly what did this then we could find a way to cure Dean without... _Killing him"_

Dean stiffened.

"I'm hoping there's a cure but you have to be prepared for-"

"-For killing my brother..."

"Sam... I'm sure that-"

"No. There'll be a cure. For the first time in weeks, we have a lead. There _will_ be a cure"

There was a long sigh, "Let's hope"

_They plan to kill me. They must have found something. Dammit, dammit, **dammit.**_

Dean closed his eyes and let his head fall backwards. The cuffs were unlocked but he didn't have any way to fight back other than fists.

He heard footsteps as one of the two left the room, "I'll start looking, shall I?"

There wasn't a response so Dean assumed the other had nodded. The door shut. It was just two of them now.

But which one had he been left with?

He cracked open an eyelid and gazed up at the silhouette. It was harder to tell without the height difference. He couldn't compare them by height and the blurry edges made it impossible to spot any details. He shut his eye and groaned in frustration. Now what? Use the cuffs as a weapon?

_...Actually... That might just work..._

Then he decided on a better plan.

Dean reopened his eye. He couldn't tell what direction the figure was facing but they were either staring right at him or facing the opposite direction. The latter seemed the most likely as he was probably still watching the door that the other had just left through.

He grabbed the cuffs off his wrists and prepared to jump at the figure. His leg muscles tensed and he could have sworn that he felt something move under the skin. The thrill raced through his body and he leapt, using the chair as a springboard.

The figure almost cried out when Dean struck him but he had his hands clasped over their mouth so tightly that they wouldn't have been able to breathe, let alone call for help. He used his thumbs to close their nostrils, leaving them with no way to breathe at all. They kicked and bucked like a horse but Dean kept them pinned down. It almost felt like they were holding back as they struggled weakly beneath him. The struggling got weaker ands weaker until it finally stopped. Their body went limp.

Dean sat up and picked up the figure's wrist, feeling for a pulse. There was nothing. No beating heart, no whisper of a breath. It was... Dead... He had won...

Then why did he feel so hollow?

Why did it feel like he had lost?

Dean shook himself. This was no time for sentiment.

There was one left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun DUUUUN


	26. Double Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean hunts the survivor. Kevin is trying to stop him. Everything ends badly.

The echo of soft footsteps seemed to echo loudly in the unnerving silence of the bunker.

Dean felt sick. He felt a dull ache in the pit of his stomach along with the sensation like puke clawing its way up his throat. His mind was a mess that he couldn't quite focus to the job at hand.

He wasn't a stranger to the emotion of guilt. Heck, he should have won a prize for the most things a person could feel guilty about in a lifetime. The issue was that he didn't quite realize why he felt that emotion now. The emotion that hindered him the most. The emotion that had nothing to do with what was going on.

So he had killed a guy? What was wrong with that? The man was either a complete stranger or his target, not to mention that they had spoken of killing him. Why would there be a problem? There was no problem. Everything was fine. Completely fine. Fine.

So why then did his legs refuse to move to walk back and check the body? To check who it was? His eyes had finally focused properly although the colour in his right eye seemed rather duller than usual. Why was he feeling... Fear?

No, no, no, nonononono. It was fine. It was great. He could have more fun with the body later. He needed to find the other. He was going to make this kill extra messy to compensate for the coward he was being. The victim probably didn't know he was coming so he would use that to his advantage and knock them out from behind. Then he would tie them up. How should he tie them up though? Hang them upside-down from the ceiling by their feet? Tie them to a chair? Whoever they were, they were probably a hunter so tying them to a chair would result in an escape. Dammit. He enjoyed the concept of tying them to a table but that seemed pretty escapable too.

Dean tried to smile but it felt a little too forced. He was just about to gather up enough courage to head back when he saw a shape. It was a figure frowning as they flicked through a leather bound book.

Sam.

Dean felt both relieved and fearful at the same time. If that was Sam then who had he killed? _Shut up_ it didn't matter. What mattered now was eliminating him. He had to go. _Shut up._ He had to stop thinking so hard and just do it. Sam could look up at any moment. He didn't have the time to be thinking. _Then why are you?_ _Shut up._ Thinking lead to guilt and hesitation which could lead to death. _Then stop._ Sam had to be treated as any other target, brother or not. Family or not. Relations didn't matter. Relations didn't matter. Relations didn't matter. _Just shut up already._ He... _Go now._ He had to... _JUST GO._

_He's not your family. He's a target._

Dean clutched the knife he had snagged from the kitchen and rushed forward before he could start thinking again. Suddenly, an invisible force launched a lamp off the table and exploded in his face. Dean was knocked backwards as the bulb shattered, spraying glass into his face. His cheek was sliced and one particularly nasty shard embedded itself into his left eye, spearing its way right through the centre of his pupil. His sight was cut in half. A red and black blur split his vision into two separate parts and a warm liquid dripped down his cheek.

Sam was looking up in alarm. _Dammit._ He had forgotten about Kevin. Knowing Kevin, he probably hadn't meant to damage Dean so badly but his remaining vision went red with rage anyway. Without thinking, he wrenched the glass shard out of his eye with a spurt of blood and slicing open his hand in the process. The glass shard was surprisingly large and curved due to the bulb shape. He brandished it like the knife that he had dropped and lost. He was too furious to look for it. He was unable to harm Kevin but he could still get Sam. Kevin couldn't do much to stop him unless he wanted to become a vengeful spirit.

The glass was slippery with the red ooze that spilled from his severed hands and the gory, stringy mush that had once been his eye. Sam looked incredibly pale as he stared at Dean, fumbling for a weapon. He pulled out the first thing his hands touched.

It was a gun.

Dean pounced forwards again, slashing the glass through the air. The glass hit Sam's cheek and shattered, showering blood and glass fragments into both of them. Dean stumbled back, wiping the tiny shards out of his face and hands. Sam was desperately blinking to try to remove one miniature piece from his right eye. A little trickle of blood came from the corner of his eye.

Dean recovered first and slammed his fist into Sam's jaw. Sam's teeth crashed together with a hard impact and he tumbled backwards, clutching at his jaw. Sam instinctively hit Dean back with the pistol he had. The metal caught Dean in the mouth and Dean's head was snapped to the side violently. He coughed and spat out a bloodied tooth, glaring at Sam with pure hatred.

"DEAN! STOP!"

Dean didn't stop. His foot touched something and he looked down. It was the knife that he had dropped. If he tried to reach for it then Sam would attack. He raised his hands in surrender, not taking his eyes off the knife. It was now or never. He had one chance to get this right.

_Moros. If you're listening: Help._

He focused his gaze hard on the knife and thought hard about it. Had the knife moved or was it his imagination? He narrowed his gaze and strengthened his mind, picturing the knife flying up into his open hand. It had definitely moved that time. Suddenly, there was a pulse of energy through his right eye and the knife was launched into the air. Dean snatched it from mid-air and rushed forwards. Sam panicked.

The gun moved to hit him out of the way. In the movies, this would be the point where everything went into slow motion. Dean would notice that the safety on the gun wasn't on. He would see Sam's finger shaking on the trigger, holding it just a little too tight. His eyes would widen as Sam's panicked motion brought the finger to push the trigger just a little too much. He would panic too and twist in the air to try to escape his fate as the bullet flew from the open mouth of the barrel.

This didn't happen. Dean didn't notice until it was too late. Until the bullet had pierced his chest.

-Until the bullet had bit its way into his lungs.

He was knocked into a mid-air spin by the impact and crashed into the ground at Sam's feet.

Maybe it was just his imagination but he could have sworn that he heard an eerie laughter echoing in his head just before he lost consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Evil laughter intensifies*


	27. Two sides to every coin

Sam was worried throughout tying up Dean that his brother would wake up at any moment and attack him again. If this wasn't fixed soon then he might be forced to kill his brother. He didn't want that.

Dean had eventually passed out after what seemed like hours of pinning him down and trying to reason with the feral creature that kicked and screeched beneath him.

Sam sighed despairingly.

He was about to try and wake Dean up when he heard the sound of someone entering a door somewhere. He didn't want to leave in case Dean woke up so he waited impatiently until the familiar figure entered the room.

"Cas!" Sam smiled, relieved.

"Sam" Cas greeted back, "I came as soon as I could"

There was an awkward silence. Cas glanced worriedly at Dean's unconscious body. He knew from Sam's call what had happened but it was still unbelievable.

"Why now?" Cas muttered, "He was acting strangely before but why wait so long to attack?"

Before Sam could answer, there was a groan from the chair.

"Hey... I think he's awake!" Sam suddenly cut in excitedly.

Dean blinked slowly and turned his head towards Sam in an eerie way as if he didn't recognize him, fixing him with a blank stare.

Cas moved forwards cautiously, sensing that something was wrong, "Dean? Dean? Can you hear me?"

There was no response. Dean just narrowed his eyes at Cas. They were slightly glazed over and seemed to be having trouble focussing.

"He's not responding." Cas concluded, "What did you say happened again?"

"He attacked me. I think he was possessed or something. The point is that he wasn't himself"

"He's not possessed now" Cas glanced at Dean who was strangely calm. He didn't seem to be struggling or trying to unpick the lock but he had a look of pure venom directed at Sam.

"No?"

"No" Cas confirmed but he was rather uncertain with the look that Dean had fixated on Sam. Every now and then, he glanced at Cas with the same stare but with a tiny bit of curiosity mixed in. It was like he couldn't quite see him. Like he didn't know who it was.

"That's great and all but so far we haven't been able to tell"

Cas leaned forwards and put his hand to Dean's forehead. Dean flinched and he bared his teeth.

"There's certainly... A presence." Suddenly, he flinched as if bitten and turned to face Sam, looking quite pale, "It was there before but it was so faint that I mistook it for emotional damage. It's stronger now"

"Do you know what it is?" Sam felt uneasy at how pale Cas looked and that flinch.

"I'm not sure yet. I have a theory but it could be wrong..."

"Well it's better than nothing"

"One thing I noticed while checking Dean was that there is a ton of dead plant matter inside his body..."

"...What..?"

"His attack earlier was because this plant was embedded in his body pretty badly. It appears that this plant was being controlled in a way like telekinesis. I'm assuming this means the thing itself can't control living people, just manipulate them"

"Embedded? What do you mean by that? How... How badly is it..?"

"The plant has sprouted from a specially made seed implanted in a fake eye that has replaced Dean's right eye. I don't think this thing did this itself but... About the embedded part" Cas paused, clearly unsure whether to go into detail, "The plant has gone from the eye to the brain and followed the nerves down to every muscle and limb in Dean's body where it can forcefully control Dean's motions. Why it has stopped now is beyond me, it clearly has the power to do this for a lot longer... I would also like to alert you that the plant is quite deep in there, it would be difficult to remove without killing him"

Sam stared sympathetically at Dean, "That sounds painful"

"It probably was"

"Geez. Well how _do_ we remove it?"

"I don't know yet but maybe if we find out exactly what did this then we could find a way to cure Dean without... _Killing him._ I'm hoping there's a cure but you have to be prepared for-"

"-For killing my brother..." Sam cut in.

"Sam... I'm sure that-"

"No." Sam glared at Cas with unshakeable determination, "There'll be a cure. For the first time in weeks, we have a lead. There _will_ be a cure"

Cas sighed, "Let's hope". He didn't sound convinced.

They stood for what seemed like ages, staring each other down as if the other would finally confess a solution to their whole problem. Finally, Sam backed down.

"I'll start looking, shall I?"

Cas didn't respond, he just looked down sadly at Dean as if he were already burning the body. Sam opened his mouth, wanting to reassure him that everything would be ok. That Dean would make it. He couldn't, though. He had no response that could convince either of them that everything could be fixed. He just turned and left in silence.

Cas didn't make any move to stop him. He just stood and stared as Sam left. He glanced at Dean, feeling his throat tighten with grief. He gritted his teeth together hard to stop himself from crying or sobbing. Dean was one of the few friends he had and he hadn't been able to help him. Maybe if he hadn't left, maybe if he hadn't left Dean leave then things would have been different. Crying for a lost friend wasn't a very angelic thing to do but his grace was gone and the grace he had wasn't his. Everything was screwed up and it was his fault again. He wished he could have the same optimism as Sam.

"I'm so sorry" Cas whispered, more to himself than the unresponding body tied to the chair. Dean wasn't dead yet but he might as well be.

He turned his head to look at Dean once again. He was so deep in his own guilt that he couldn't register the blurred shape launching itself towards him before it hit him and slammed him to the ground powerfully, making his head ring and drowning out all other sounds of his own flailing and yelling. He shook himself left and right and bucked in an attempt to remove the thing on his back. A pair of very familiar hands pressed down on his nostrils and mouth. Cas didn't need oxygen as much as humans usually but he was still in a weakened state that wouldn't survive the assault so he scratched at the hands. They were unmoveable and he was scared to cause harm to Dean, possessed or not. Dean moved his hands, picking up something beside him and wrapped it around Cas' neck, yanking hard. The cold metallic feel of the noose alerted him to the fact that it was the handcuffs that was strangling him. His vision began to darken with patches like grey static and his hearing began to leave him, leaving a faint buzzing noise. There was an uncomfortable pressure in his face that made it hard to speak or move his facial features. He fell limp, unable to muster enough strength to even beg for mercy. The chain stayed around his neck for an eternity before it was loosened. Dean stood up and checked Cas for a pulse. As much as it hurt, Cas couldn't breathe from fear as his friend searched for a pulse. The angel's pulse was slow from the strangulation and Dean stood up quite quickly after checking. It was like he still didn't quite want to kill him. Dean might still be in there.

Cas didn't allow himself to breathe until the door had shut, leaving him enveloped in the darkness and his own growing feeling of foreboding and failure.


	28. Fix-its never go as planned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam makes one last attempt to save Dean including one spoon and too much trauma.

Sam had utterly hated every second of research he did. Everything was vague and full of multiple theories that didn't fit in some way or another. Some just weren't detailed enough, some had extra details that weren't happening like a puzzle piece from the wrong puzzle. One particularly horrible theory spoke of a Greek god named Moros. Moros was the god of doom that couldn't be questioned or stopped by anything or anyone. He was considered omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent. Aka, an all knowing monster that existed everywhere so he was pretty much unstoppable. Supposedly, Moros had never been worshipped since he had been hidden from the perception of humanity. Sam passed over this god with a shudder. There wasn't enough information to pin it down to that particular god and Sam was thankful for that.

Now that Dean was on the ground, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth and the gory pit of his left eye. The right eye, the one that supposedly contained the source of the problem, was wide open and seemed to stare at him with a twisted hatred.

Dean... Not Dean...

Sam felt guilt stab at him. This was his fault. He should have never let Dean leave. Maybe if he had gotten there sooner or maybe if Dean had never left or maybe if he hadn't picked up that gun or left Cas alone with him or if he had been better at seeing the signs... He couldn't stop a sob from escaping him.

"...Dean..."

He should have done something, anything... Cas... Where was Cas?!

Sam looked around suddenly, panicking. He had been so absorbed with Dean that he had forgotten about Cas. If Dean was here then Cas...

...Oh no...

He didn't want to leave Dean alone like that but where the hell was Cas?!

"Cas? Cas!"

No response. He was vaguely aware of the fact that he couldn't control his breathing. It was coming in short, sharp breaths. He couldn't lose both of them at once. No. No no nononononononono. Please, God, no!

Unable to stop himself, Sam sprinted from the room towards the panic room where Cas should be. He was crying uncontrollably as he ran, light headed from his frightened gasping. His head was spinning and he tripped, unable to determine up from down. The room seemed to be moving around him. He struggled to stand up only to slide comically into a wall head-first with a loud bang. He slumped to the floor and tried to calm down. He was getting no-where like this. Cas was an angel. He was fine... Right?

No matter what, he needed to start thinking straight. Dean was probably still alive back there, it would be a little longer before he died of blood loss. The bullet had created a hole in the area near Dean's lungs so he could choke to death on his own blood. The point was, if he got that plant out of him, Dean would be saved, right? He had no other choice. Desperation could drive people to extremes.

Carefully, Sam manoeuvred himself to the kitchen. He opened a drawer and pulled something out: a clean, silver spoon. The thought of what he was about to do sickened him to his stomach. It was for Dean. He had to.

So, it was in his eye right? His right eye?

Dean was still there, still unmoving, when he got back. Sam sat down next to the body, watching the blood trickle from his mouth as his chest went up and down with shuddering breaths. Dean opened his eyes painfully and gazed at Sam with a look of regret.

"S-Saam..." He gurgled slightly on his own blood, red bubbles forming in the corner of his mouth. The utter despair in his voice was heartbreaking.

"It's ok, you'll be ok" Sam soothed, vision blurred by tears.

"I-I'm sorryy" He began to cough, his body convulsing in agony before his eyes shut and he fell still again.

"You'll be ok" Sam whispered again, mostly to himself. He carefully placed the tip of the spoon to the skin under Dean's right eye. Dean's eye flickered slightly but didn't open. Sam swallowed nervously, shut his eyes and pushed the spoon in. The skin moved easily, having already been gouged once, folding under the eye. A yellowish pus leaked out. Sam opened his eyes to survey the damage, took another gasping breath and manoeuvred the spoon up in a scooping motion. The eye came out way too easily on a sticky cord of plant matter and optical nerve, dripping red, yellow and clear liquids. A gooey plant sap pooled on the spoon. Dean began to convulse again in pain with the spoon still lodged in his eye and Sam's hand. As soon as he thrashed once, the spoon tore through the flesh of the skin below the eye like paper tearing, ripping open his cheek. Dean gave a pitiful gurgle in protest. Sam flinched.

"Sorry"

Dean fell still. Was he still breathing? It didn't look like it. Sam ignored this and put down the spoon before reaching for the plant matter with his bare hands. His fingers touched the sticky surface and coiled around the vines. He shut his eyes again and pulled. The plant didn't come out, instead, it broke away in his hands, brittle, and crumbled. If he was going to try again, he would have to reach in deeper. He choked down his vomit and shoved his hand into the eye socket until he felt the brittle substance brush his fingertips and then he pulled again. There was more resistance this time and he could swear that he felt all of Dean's insides shift for a moment before the plant just broke again. He didn't hesitate to reach in further, his wrist brushing against Dean's hanging eye and the concoction of liquids dripping onto his hand. For a third time, he gripped the plant and yanked. For a third time, the plant resisted and then broke like glass. It was useless. Dean was no longer breathing.

Sam sat back, planted his face in his still sticky hands and cried, trembling and broken.

Cas finally entered the room, only able to stare at the remains of Dean and the sobbing form of Sam.

They both comforted each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more epilogue to go.


End file.
